Spencer's Secret
by TheGingerNextDoor
Summary: A case sends Spencer home, and a blast from his past shakes things up. My first CM fic, so please review! Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

Spencer's Secret

Summary: When the team travels to Nevada for a case, Spencer's life changes. Could the killer be someone he cares about?

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. It is property of CBS entertainment.

Chapter 1-Memories

1200 Hours

Pahrump, NV

Three weeks before

Lieutenant Detective Becky Peterson exited her police cruiser to find her partner, Steve Garofani, waiting for her. The crime scene was gruesome; a cleaning woman had been found by the woman who hired her. She'd been strangled and sexually assaulted. The crime scene techs had found a sponge saturated with cleaning chemicals shoved down her throat. Becky spoke to the older man.

"How's it look?" She raised her eyebrows

"It doesn't look good for the pool boy."

She grimaced at him. "I chase a ten-year-old around all day. I am in little danger of getting fat. Why the pool boy?" He pointed to a tallish, good looking Cuban man, and Becky sighed. "Well, he's good looking. Techs said the cleaning lady was young, do you think there was something going on with the two of them?"

Steve nodded, and took a step toward the crime scene. She shrugged, and followed him to where the pool boy was waiting to speak with police. Steve spoke as he walked. "Maybe, but it's suspicious that he was the only other one here, claims to know nothing, and that Ms. Gonzalez was married, with no enemies. Someone killed her."

Becky murmured in agreement, and they proceeded to process the scene. Halfway through a preliminary questioning of the pool boy, whom Becky discovered was called Hector, her cell rang. It is her boss, the Captain, telling her that they were needed back at the station. There had been another murder.

1600 Hours

FBI HQ

Quantico, VA

At his desk at the BAU, Spencer sighed, stretched and yawned. It had been a long day. They had arrived back at the office seventeen hours ago, and he had been writing after-action reports. All. Day. Long. He considered for a moment whether or not he was in his right mind for doing such a job, but after a momentary mental discussion, decided that yes, he was in his right mind, he just simply worked too much. He was lonely these days since things hadn't work out with that agent from LA and the girl in his building hadn't returned his call after she'd asked him to dinner last week, and so he found himself hating the world sometimes. His mother was doing okay; perhaps he should give her a call tonight. He clicked on his computer and tapped away at his calendar making a note to "Call Mom" and "Buy More Peanut Butter". The voice of his boss snapped him back to his office.

"Okay, everyone, thanks for your hard work today. Why don't you all head out early? I want you all rested for tomorrow. It's back to work then."

He rolled his eyes at Hotch, finished his emails, and clicked his computer off. When he stood to grab his coat and find his Metro pass, Prentiss and Morgan asked if he wanted to grab a drink with them. He declined and headed downstairs to begin the trek home.

Luckily, he'd figured out a long time ago that it didn't pay to drive your car to HQ. It was far too crowded in the parking lot and on the Beltway, and you spent more time looking for a place to park than you did actually driving. Besides, east coast drivers made him crazy. He caught the early train and was grateful that the bombardier car was fairly empty, allowing him time to organize his thoughts.

He made his way to the market on the corner near his building, and grabbed a jar of Jif, which would likely make the others cringe, but he liked it because it reminded him of his childhood and one summer when things were going well. His mom took him to a lake to fish and play, and they ate Jif sandwiches, grapes and juice. He also tossed some crackers into his basket along with a tub of butter and checked out.

He headed home, and put the food away. He set about tidying his kitchen, preparing a quick dinner of pasta and broccoli, and settling down to watch the news before he called his mom and went online. As he speared a piece of rigatoni, he frowned at the TV. Nevada police had serial killer on their hands, in a town outside of Vegas, and he sighed deeply. He had a feeling that he would soon find himself in that tiny town and, dejected , he flipped off the TV and ate in silence.

Later that evening, after he had cleaned up, called his mom, spent two hours on the Net playing games, and gotten his clothes ready for the next day, his work phone rang. He scowled at it, and in a rare moment of defiance, considered ignoring it. Instead, he sighed and answered.

"Reid." Surprisingly, it was not Hotch, but Rossi, who couldn't find a file. He directed his colleague to the manila folder on his desk, and wished the man a good evening. He turned in early, after securing the front door, double-checking that the appliances were off, and phoning the girl upstairs, who didn't answer.

1800 Hours

Pahrump, NV

Becky climbed into her car and began the five-minute drive to the tiny bungalow that she and her son called home. Her son was there already; since he was ten now, she let him spend one hour alone after Mrs. Gold left, and before she could get home to make dinner and check his homework. Having a ten year old boy who was smarter than his mama made raising a child all the more difficult, but then his father was smart, and he was a good boy, Becky reminded herself. She pulled into the driveway, and noted that Max has left the porch light on, good boy.

She parked, double-checked that the car was secure, and headed for the front door. She found it locked, thankful that her son was slightly OCD, and therefore, followed directions to a T. She unlocked the door, and let herself in to find her son sitting at the kitchen table, his head buried in his math workbook, chewing thoughtfully at a pencil eraser, looking every inch like his father. It made her heart ache for just a moment, but then Max looked up at her, and smiled broadly.

"Hi, Mom, Mrs. Gold left at 5:30, so I've only been here for a half-hour, so don't worry, okay?"

Becky smiled, nodded, and kissed his head. They decided to heat a pizza for dinner, and Becky put together a quick salad, poured a glass of wine for herself and milk for Max. They ate and talked together, as had been their practice since Max was very little. Becky loved the hour that she spent alone with her son before bedtime, and before she spent the evening working on case files. Her son was young and naive, although fiercely intelligent, and she tried to always encourage him to finish school before having a family. She never regretted her son. She just wished she'd been smarter when she was young.

Max's father had been a high school friend. Actually, his mother had been a friend first. Becky let her mind wander as Max finished his dinner and rinsed his plate. She thought back to the first time she'd met Mrs. Reid, and it made her smile. Becky remembered that her and her father had moved to the small neighborhood in a poorer part of Vegas to take a job as a trash collector for the City. Her mother had died in childbirth, and it had been hard on her father, raising a child on his own with only a high school education.

Becky was lucky to have been born pretty, so childhood had been kind to her, and she'd thrived until middle school, when her female genes began to accelerate and she grew breasts and a whole foot taller than all the kids, even the boys. Her father, by then, had turned to the bottle to help him ease the transition between Becky's girlhood and womanhood, and Becky found herself raising herself mostly alone. He had a series of girlfriends, each one prettier than the last, and each one a worse mother figure than her predecessor. So when they arrived on the same street, literally next door to Diana Reid, Becky braced herself for yet another female figure to float in and out of her life.

But Becky quickly figured out that the nice lady next door was slightly off. Her son was incredibly smart; Becky's age, and already away at college in California, and she noticed that the older woman had few friends, but was wildly funny. So Becky found herself a fixture at Diana Reid's home most days after school, and a friendship blossomed.

Becky had quickly realized that Diana's oddness was attributed to a mental illness, though she didn't realize the extent of the issue at that time.

As she began to wash the dishes and Max took a bath, she remembered more. Her mind pictured the day that she'd first met Spencer Reid. It had been a warm Spring day, and she had a school holiday, and her father had left for the day. She packed a picnic lunch, dressed in a pretty sundress, and prepared herself to take Diana to the park nearby for girl talk and lunch, as they sometimes did when the older woman was feeling well. Becky was surprised when she knocked on the door, and instead of Diana's smiling face, she found Spencer's scowling one staring back at her. Becky, being almost a woman and well-educated on the manners that might one day fetch her a nice husband and a much-needed escape from her father, simply smiled and asked if she could come in.

Once Spencer had let her in, she'd introduced herself and told him all about her and Diana's adventures together. He had seemed oddly bothered by her revelations, although now she realized that his mother was suffering, and that her presence had been a hindrance instead of the help she'd imagined. Anyway, she'd learned that Spencer was home for the summer, with the intent of putting his mother into Bennington Sanitarium, which he did by the end of the summer. She had found herself attracted to the boy, but more than that, she had felt a kindred with him-he was as motherless as she was, though he had his mother in flesh and blood, he didn't have the connection that most children had. His father was also absent, and so they could connect on that end, too.

The summer had culminated in a few sweet kisses at the fair, all of them initiated by her, and the day before he'd left to return to California, they'd gone to see his mother and then she invited him to her house for dinner. Of course, her father wasn't around, as usual, so the two teenagers found themselves alone in a big empty house in the dead heat of a desert summer, and pulled out a tub of ice cream to cool off. Becky was fairly certain that it had been Spencer's idea-but now it appeared to be hers-to run through the sprinkler in her back yard. They soon found themselves laughing, wet, and happy, and she'd kissed him again. As dusk fell, their kisses became deeper and more serious, and their touches became less clumsy and more decided, and before she knew what had happened, she woke up next to him in her bed. He woke up not long after, swore that he'd love her forever, and left to return to college. She went on to UNLV herself, and moved in with her aunt, who lived nearby.

It was just a few weeks after school had started that she realized she was pregnant, and luckily, her aunt was understanding. She knew instantly that a child would be too much for Spencer to handle; he'd almost had a heart attack whenever she'd kissed him. So she never breathed a word to Spencer, nor to Max. In fact, the only person who knew was her father, and he was now dead, so she felt confident that Spencer Reid would never, ever know, and neither would Max. It was becoming harder with Max, though, as he'd recently been persistently pressing her about his father, and she knew that she might soon have to tell him the story of the woman who had lived next door, and the summer that her life had changed forever.

But now, Max appeared in front of her, dressed for bed, and as she slid the last of the forks into the drying rack and rinsed her hands, she smiled at him.

"Sweetheart, are you ready for bed?" He nodded, and she followed him down the hallway where they read The Chronicles of Narnia before he fell asleep. After she tucked him in, she kisses him goodnight, and began to read over her case file before turning early, the thoughts of Spencer now dimmed again in the back of her memory.

The second murder had her shaken; this one was a woman her age, another mom she knew, and was found drowned in the local watering hole on the outskirts of town. She was noticing a pattern to the murders, the most obvious of which was that both of the victims were good-looking females under the age of thirty. Ms. Gonzales was Hispanic, but had blonde hair, and this new victim, whom her partner had dubbed, "The Blonde in the Pond," was also blonde. She highlighted and notated for the next hour, then turned in early, grateful that it was Wednesday, and would be a fairly quiet night. Fridays were always busy, but Tuesdays and Wednesdays could generally find her getting a full eight hours of sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Spencer's Secret, Chapter 2-Case unfolds

Summary: A blast from Reid's past forces him to make a few life descisions.

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. It is property of CBS entertainment.

0800 Hours

FBI HQ

Quantico, VA

Spencer bounded into the office, his spirits lifted, both from the cup of hot tea he clutched, and from the fact that the girl in his building had spoken to him. She'd been out of town on business, but said she'd missed him and was sorry she hadn't called. They hadn't yet set another date, but it was looking hopeful. He greeted the others, and he could tell that they sensed his mood, because they all exchanged glances, but he ignored them and turned on his computer, and pressed the "play" button on his voicemail.

He worked steadily for an hour, then stood to head upstairs to hang with the IT guys for a bit. It was his only distraction at work; he'd secretly wished sometimes that he'd gotten a computer science degree, so he could have an excuse to play video games all day, but he generally liked his job, so it was fleeting. He caught the elevator with the director, a pretty brunette agent who he thought was named Mackenzie, and a Marine in full dress uniform.

He'd always felt uncomfortable in elevators; he was never good at small talk, and felt that if he just smiled the whole time, he'd look like an idiot. He was grateful that they all got off on the same floor, and he could ride in silence and peace to the fifth floor. When the elevator opened, he was face to face with Garcia and they exchanged pleasantries and then he hurried down the hall.

He hoped that he never annoyed her, because he never wanted her digging into his life, but he was generally grateful that she was his friend, and he admired her skill at computers and hacking. He settled himself on a couch in the IT office, and helped himself to a donut from the package that one of the wives sent in. His friend, Jim Rodriguez, showed him the latest thing he was working on, a spy camera for the armed forces, and they played around with it for an hour before Spencer got a call from an irritated Hotch, and hurried back downstairs.

When he'd settled himself at the conference table, and Rossi had passed papers out to everyone, Hotch spoke the news that he'd suspected the previous evening. Someone in southern Nevada was killing women, and they were needed to help crack the case. He sighed; he hated that state, and everything it had meant for his inner child. But it was far enough north of Vegas that maybe it wouldn't be so wounding, and as Hotch excused them to go home to prepare, he'd decided to see if he couldn't flit down to Vegas to see his Mom, for when he'd spoken to her the night before, she wasn't doing as well as he'd hoped.

A few hours later, he returned to HQ to ride with the others out to the tarmac at the Navy base at Falls Church. He carried a small duffel, his laptop, and a shirt he'd picked up for his mom when he'd gone to the mall with JJ, Henry, and Prentiss last week, and had had it wrapped for the upcoming Christmas holiday. He settled himself into his favorite seat on the smallish plane, and turned his iPod on shuffle. He leaned back, and closed his eyes, and let the memories of his childhood come back, as they often did when he talked, or thought about, or traveled to Nevada.

He flashed back to the first grade, when his parents had moved him to that God-forsaken hell-hole in the desert. Then to the first time he'd been forced to participate in the school play-he'd been an extra in the production of "Johnny Appleseed", and it was hell. He was painfully shy, and even back then, he was a dweeb, and the kids picked on him mercilessly. He thought about junior high, when he'd found a niche with a group of super-smart math geeks. High school had been hell; by then, his parents had split, his mother was struggling, he hated his father, and he was the youngest boy. High school had been his escape; his teachers appreciated and rewarded his hard work and natural intelligence, and he found that he excelled at school and art, and that he liked rock music.

The only thing that had made the summer between his junior year and senior year at CalTech less difficult was the influence of his mother's neighbor, and friend, Rebecca Peterson. The girl had moved next door to his mom the year before, and had struck up a friendship with her. He had been surprised at first, when the pretty, friendly, blonde-haired girl had shown up on his front step, picnic lunch in hand, ready to take his mother to the park. But as the summer progressed, and he began to get to know her, he found himself with a little bit of a crush. And she had kissed him a few times, which had felt wonderful. It had been the summer that he'd decided to place his mother in the sanitarium, and Becky had helped him to feel less guilty and had provided him with advice and information from a girl's perspective. The day before he'd left to return to school for the Fall semester, he'd spent the day with Becky visiting his mother.

That day was a day he would always remember; his very first time with a girl. She had been so sweet to him; invited him for dinner and cooked for him. Her father wasn't around, though he couldn't remember why, and soon, darkness had fallen. It had been very warm that year, one of the warmest he'd remembered, and Becky had had the genius idea of eating ice cream and playing in the sprinkler in her backyard. He'd come along for the ride, but found himself soaking wet and laughing, and then she'd kissed him again.

This time, it became a little more serious, perhaps because they realized it was time for the goodbyes, but they'd ended up sleeping together. He'd woken up to the realization of what had just happened, but in a fit of remorse, he'd said he'd loved her. And then he went back to California and had never seen or spoken to her again. Maybe he'd look her up, see if she still lived in Southern Nevada when he went to visit his mom.

Hotch tapped his shoulder to see if he was sleeping, but he opened his eyes and acknowledged his boss.

"Sir?"

"We're landing in an hour. I'd like to speak to everyone in just a bit; I've just spoken to the local police captain." Spencer nodded, and leaned back again, and thought some more about the girl that got away.

1300 Hours

EJ Brinkley Primary School

Pahrump, NV

Becky sat in the teacher's lounge at the elementary school, where she had a meeting with Max's teachers to decide if he should skip a grade again, since he was bored with school and had begun to act out. She hated to move him up again; he was already the youngest sixth grader, and she worried about his emotional well-being.

The meeting had already gone over the hour she had scheduled for it, and she was antsy. Police work was her passion, and when she wasn't in the field, she was at her wit's end. Finally, it was agreed that no decisions would be made until the school psychologist could assess Max, which wouldn't be until after Christmas. She signed the papers handed to her, thanked the teachers for their time, and hurried to her car because the FBI profilers would be here any minute, and she was curious about their work, for she found the psychology of crime thoroughly interesting.

She sped through town, the two intersections slowed her down and frustrated her. She hadn't had time to eat lunch, but ten years of motherhood had taught her to pack a snack, and so she parked carefully in her designated spot, and hurried upstairs and into her office. From her drawer, she pulled out a package of peanuts, some animal crackers, and a bottle of water. She opened the box of animal crackers and lined them up on her desk before selecting an elephant and biting it in half. She realized that she had odd habits, but chalked it up to her high IQ; she'd heard that smart people are often weird. Plus, she herself was slightly OCD; perhaps that's where Max got it?

She ate a few more crackers, and swallowed some water, and opened the peanuts, then closed them again and fastened the bag with a rubber band, and stood and walked to the window. She spotted a black SUV pulling into the driveway, and the driver, whom she couldn't see, parked expertly in a spot marked "Visitor." Becky noticed that the SUV had government license plates, and dark windows. It was the FBI people, for even the mayor didn't drive around in a car like that. She ate another cookie as she watched a pretty, dark-featured older woman and a younger, heavy-set younger woman exit the vehicle. On the driver's side, an older, possibly Mediterranean man climbed out, with a gorgeous black man and another man with dark hair and a dark suit at his flank.

Finally, she spotted a familiar face and nearly choked on her cookie. Holy mother of God, it was Spencer Reid. What were the odds? She quickly turned and hurried into her office; she slipped the photos of Max under her desk, and reapplied her lipstick. Finally, she dialed her partner's extension, and when he picked up, she practically sobbed into the phone.

"Steve? The FBI people are here. Can you come to my office for a minute? I need your help." He noticed the tone in her voice, and quickly appeared at her door.

"Becky, what's up?" She looked up at him, miserable.

"It's him, Steve. Max's dad. He's one of the FBI agents." Steve stared at her, as if trying to read her mind. He sighed, and inched into the office, as he shut the door behind him. He sat in a chair opposite her desk, and watched as she turned her desk chair around to face the wall. "It was one night, about eleven years ago. I never thought I'd ever see him again. You have to help me. He can't know about Max." Her partner shrugged, and replied.

"Ok, Becks. Which one is it?"

"Spencer Reid. The curly-haired one. Look for the one who looks like Max. Of all the FBI agents in this country, they had to send him? What am I going to do?" She turned back around, and he could tell instantly that she was distraught and smiled at her.

"It'll be fine. I won't say anything, and I'll tell everyone to mind their own business. But really, why can't you tell him? He has a right to know. So does Max. How do you expect to hide a child in this town?" She glared at him as her green eyes blazed, but then she shrugged.

"I couldn't tell him; he was at CalTech with a full scholarship; really going places. He didn't need to be tied down with a woman and child, and he certainly didn't need any reminders of home. He had a tough childhood. I am not telling Max, and that's that. Finally, I don't plan to "hide" Max, but I hope that if I am really careful, I can keep him out of sight, and away from here. I wonder where they are staying?" Steve answered.

"The Inn. Julie said they'd made reservations this morning." His wife's family owned the only hotel in a 25-mile radius, the Desert Oasis Inn, which more of a boarding house than a hotel, but it was clean and comfortable, and Julie and her brother were welcoming.

"Fantastic. Right next door to my house." She made a face, but then shrugged. "Just help me keep them both distracted. Maybe I'll set him up; Jamie Ross is new in town, and she's cute." Her partner laughed.

"Jamie Ross is a lesbian, Becky. You are going to have to deal with this sometime; why not now? He can't kill you with the FBI in town."

"Very funny. I WILL deal with it, just not now." He sighed. The phone rang then, and they could hear the captain's voice as it boomed down the line.

"Get your sixes in here, now, please. Bring your case files with you." Becky stood and smoothed her hair as she gathered the files from her desk, and Steve hurried into his office and plucked a large manila folder off of his. She looked down to make sure her outfit is still fairly tidy, and was grateful that she didn't eat, because she usually found herself swimming in mustard or taco sauce after lunch.

They hurried to their boss's office, and let themselves in. They stood and waited for their boss's signal to sit, and when he nodded, they positioned themselves at the long table that had been set up, and Becky smiled at the agents. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that Spencer shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable, but she didn't look in his direction. Instead, she ignored the pointed looks from the assembled group, and opened the case files she is holding, and passed photographs out as she began to speak.

"These are crime-scene photos and our notes from interviews and such. If you're interested, I've noticed a pattern, which is that so far, both of the victims are female, blonde, and under 40." She handed the papers to Hotch, who passed them around the group. He looked at Becky for a moment, his eyebrows raised.

"You know about profiling?" Becky looked a little sheepish as she answers him.

"Well, I took a class in criminal psychology. And one in criminalistics." He nodded.

"I see. Well, that is a good place to start; a pattern, I mean. Ok, folks, you have your assignments. Captain, is there anything you want to add?" They all looked at the older man who serves as both captain and chief of police for their tiny town. He nodded once.

"You can have Detectives Peterson and Garofani to assist. They know the area, and the crime scenes, and sadly, the victims. If you need any other personnel, we'll be happy to oblige." Just then, Steve's phone rang, and he announced that it is a beat cop called Sherman. He listened for a moment, then hung up.

"There's been another murder. It's Amy Thompson. She's the music teacher at the elementary school. I'm sorry, Becky." Becky gazed sadly at him. Ms. Thompson was Max's favorite teacher; how was she going to break this to him? But she didn't have time to dwell, as Spencer had stopped in front of her. She smiled lightly at him.

"Hi. You look good." He smiled back at her.

"So do you. Why is your partner sorry about the teacher?"

"Um, I have a kid who goes to school there. I am going to have to explain to him why she's not there tomorrow, and why she'll never be there again." He looks surprised.

"I didn't know you had a son."

"Yup. He's 10 now. Name's Max. Great kid." She sighed, and he looks concerned, and reaches up to touch her face, but didn't get a chance to soothe her, because Hotchner interrupted.

"All right, people, let's move out. Garcia, Captain O'Farrell told me you can use the alcove over there to set up," he said, and pointed to an area where the dispatch girls usually worked. They had been relocated downstairs temporarily, and she nodded as she head for the large desk, laptop in hand.

Hotch continued. "Prentiss, Reid. I would like for you two to go with the detectives to process the scene. Rossi and Morgan will go and begin interviewing suspects and witnesses, scarce though they are. I have to speak with some reporters, and then I'll be on hand to assist whoever needs it. Go."

The agents nodded, and murmur and begin to organize themselves. Becky excused herself to Reid, and asked Hotchner if she could speak to him and the Captain. He agreed, and follows her into the captain's office. She turned to them as soon as the door closed, and spoke in an urgent voice.

"I need off this case." The captain was surprised, but Hotchner began questioning her.

"Yes, I noticed earlier that you and Dr. Reid had an…interesting interaction. What was that about?"

"We had a thing once, a long time ago, right after high school. It was just once, and I never saw him again. Until now. But I think it's brought up old stuff." The captain spoke as Hotchner glanced her over, assessing whether she is telling the truth. He decided that she is. The captain asked another question.

"So why would that require you off this case?" She sighed deeply.

"He's Max's father. He doesn't know, and he can't know. But I don't know if I am mature enough to deal with it." The two men looked at each other, and then at her. The captain spoke gently, as he's known her longer.

"Look, Rebecca. You can handle it; you're very tough. I've seen you work with tougher situations. Secondly, I don't really understand what you mean that "he's Max's father", and why he can't know, and how it matters. Thirdly, orders are orders, and I need you on this case." She sighed again, and opened her mouth to speak, as Hotch watched with raised eyebrows.

"Sir, Dr. Reid is Max's father. Max's real name is Spencer Allen, Jr. I started to call him Max because it derived from a nickname my father used for him. It stuck, and I never explained it to anyone because firstly, it's no one's business, and secondly, I never thought I'd ever have to." He sat back, as Hotch spoke.

"Well, I personally think you should tell Dr. Reid, but I don't think it's necessary to drop you from this case. I appreciated your insight earlier; you seem to have a feel for this town and it's residents, and I would like for you to be out there. I will keep Dr. Reid occupied; if he crosses a line, which is unlikely, let me know. And I will tell him the same. But really, you should consider telling him." Becky shook her head defiantly.

"I'm not telling him. But thank you, I appreciate your hearing me out." They nodded at her, and Hotch excused her and asked her to send in Dr. Reid. She does, and as the two superiors spoke with him, Becky took a moment to close her office door, and freak out.

A few moments later, Steve knocked on her door, and she gathered her files and notebook, and the rest of her animal crackers, and followed him downstairs behind the FBI agents. Hotchner had switched out Reid for Morgan, and Becky tried not stare at the large, good looking agent, as her partner poked her, and whispered.

"Hey, keep your hormones in check, woman. We gotta work with these people, Ok?" She rolled her eyes at him, and climbed into the SUV that belonged to the FBI people. She sat next to Agent Prentiss, and the women fell into a conversation as Steve gave Morgan directions. Emily looked sideways at Becky, but smiled.

"So, what's up with you and Reid?" Becky blushed.

"Oh, that. Um, we were neighbors. And then we had a thing. Once. You know what it's like-being a teenager and romance. It was a long time ago."

Becky sighed, and looked out the window. Prentiss suspected that there is more to the story, but didn't push it. No one could ask any more questions, because they arrived at the secluded area behind the school where the latest victim had been found. They let themselves out quietly, and Becky rushed to the body. She knelt and looked at the woman's face for a few moments, sighed loudly, and shook her head. She stood, and walked back over to where the others were standing. She was surprised to see Ron Baker, the fireman she'd been dating. He wasn't dressed for work, and she looked at him, questioningly.

"Ron? What are you doing here?" He looked from Steve to her, and smiled.

"Hey, Becks. Um, I was out here, running, and I heard some commotion and came to check it out." Steve raised an eyebrow, but spoke to Becky.

"He's the one who phoned it in. What did you see, Mr. Baker?"

"Just a nondescript pickup truck heading away from the scene. I called the department immediately, bent down to check her pulse, and then called you guys. I was trying to call Becky, but she didn't answer." Becky stood next to Morgan, and she leaned in and whispered to him.

"I never got a call. I ALWAYS have my phone on. Just in case my kid needs me. I don't even have a record of a missed call. And who runs in jeans?" Morgan shrugged, but raised his eyebrows, and related this information to Prentiss, who interrupted Steve and Ron's exchange.

"Um, Mr. Baker, thanks for your help, and quick action. Can I ask you just a quick question? If you were running, how come you're in jeans and a sweater?" He pointed to the sedan they'd parked next to.

"That's my car. I changed after, just in case Becky showed up. I didn't want to be smelly." Becky laughs, but Prentiss and Morgan looked suspiciously at him. They allowed him to leave, though, and as he headed for his car, he turned to speak to Becky.

"Speaking of changing, can I take you to dinner tonight, Detective Peterson?" She shrugged.

"Um, maybe. Let me see if I can find a sitter, and I'll call you later, OK?" He appeared satisfied, and bounded off for his car. They watch as he pulled away, and Steve grumbled at Becky.

"I can't stand that guy. I don't know what you see in him." She tossed her head at him.

"He's nice. And he's steady. He has a job, he is intelligent, and he's good with Max. I don't judge your relationship with Julie, so don't bug me about Ron. Besides, I probably won't go out with him. Firstly, something about this," she said as she moved her hands around to indicate the scene, "just doesn't add up. Secondly, I don't have anyone to watch Max. Normally, I'd ask Mrs. Gold to stay late, but she's been ill lately, so I don't want to bother her." He nodded, and Prentiss spoke.

"I agree, Detective. Why call the fire department first? And didn't Morgan say you hadn't gotten a call from him?" She nodded.

"Or anyone, really. I had a conference this morning with my son's teachers, and I had the phone on silent, but it still would've recorded something. And he's always left a message before. So I like I said, it just doesn't add up." Morgan sighed.

"I'll call Hotch and the others. Tell them. There's the crime scene guys; see if you can get some photos before she's bagged and tagged, OK?" They agreed, and separated to do various things. Becky looked at the parking lot for a few moments, then walked to the muddy exit. She pulled Steve along with her.

"When I was here this morning, they were running the sprinklers. I know that the sprinklers go on back here, too; it's where the sixth graders have their garden. But I only see one set of tire tracks. If a pickup was speeding away, wouldn't there be two?" He nodded and looked at his partner, sadly. He wished that she could finally find some guy who wouldn't let her down, and someone who took care of her, because he worried for her, alone with Max in that house on the edge of town. She was a pretty woman, and the wrong man could easily hurt her. She looked up at him, and raised her eyebrows.

"What? You have that concerned-daddy look on your face." He laughed, but then turned serious.

"It's just your fireman, Beck. I wonder why he was being so untruthful. It makes me wonder what else he isn't truthful about. How many times has he taken you out?"

"Just a few times. You don't think he could have killed her, do you? He's really very gentle, or at least he is to me and Max. Max actually doesn't like him, and neither does Max's cat, but he is nice to him." Steve shrugged.

"I'm not saying anything. It's just suspicious." Becky pursed her lips.

"You're right. I guess from now on, he's going to be just like any other suspect." She sighed again, and he smiled lightly, and patted her back.

"Good girl. Besides, as the girls would say, you have a baby-daddy to worry about." She laughed heartily.

"Your girls are funny. Let's go see what's up. Agent Morgan is off the phone." They headed back to the agents, and told them what they'd found in the mud, and Morgan relayed that Hotch wants them back at the station, because Garcia had some information about the victims.

They piled back into the car, and this time, Becky drove, with Morgan next to her in the passengers seat. They all chatted lightly about the case, but there was an undercurrent of discomfort, for Morgan thought that Becky was kind of young to be a detective, and her attractiveness had his senses heightened, Steve is worried about his partner, and Prentiss wanted to know what Becky was hiding about her past with Spencer.

They are all relieved when they arrived back at the station, and are seated at the big table in the offices upstairs. Garcia spoke to the group, as Reid wrote stuff down on a chalkboard. Becky smiled at Spencer, and he nodded in her direction but ignored her. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and turned her attention to the heavyset computer genius standing in front of them.

1500 Hours

Pahrump PD

Spencer approached Penelope's desk, and handed her a cup of coffee. He smiled at the woman, and looked her over, trying to find something to compliment her on, for he learned long ago that with girls, compliments go a long way. Especially when you were about to ask them for a favor.

"That's a pretty shirt, Garcia." He smiled as Penelope looked up at him and smiles. They had a decent relationship, so his behavior in the meeting earlier had had her on edge.

"What's up, Boy wonder?" He grimaced at her, hating in that moment the fact that she had a nickname or slang term for everyone and everything. Why couldn't he just be Spencer? He sighed, but continued.

"I need your help. I need you to snoop around a bit, see what you can find about Detective Peterson. Particularly about her son." Garcia raised a well-manicured eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, what was all that about? You looked like you saw a ghost."

"We had a-thing- the summer before I graduated college. I loved her, but I didn't stay. I hoped she'd be OK, and maybe she has been. Can you please just check?"

She nodded, but spoke. "Why can't you just ask her?"

"She won't tell me. Hotch said she refused to work with me, so obviously she wasn't OK, but I don't really know what I did to her for her to hate me." Penelope nodded at him.

"I see. I'll try, but Hotch has me jumping today, so I can only promise to work on it when I can." He smiled at her.

"That's all I ask. Thank you." She nodded, and turned back to her computer as he bounded off to find Rossi so they could begin the interviews. They had just two eyewitnesses, one an elderly neighbor of the second victim, and the other a young child who saw something regarding the most recent victim. They headed out, and he was thankful that Rossi didn't ask him about Becky. Instead, he asked him what Hotch wanted when he was called into the Captain's office.

"Oh, one of the detectives wanted off the case, I guess they felt they couldn't be partial or something. It's a small town, and I guess they all know each other. Why?" Rossi looked at him sideways from the passenger's seat, and shrugged.

"Looked heated is all. We're headed for the elementary school." Spencer maneuvered the department's only unmarked car through a throng of people pulling out of the high school's parking lot.

"I know. We passed it on our way in; I remember it's just down a bit from the high school." Rossi nodded, and looked out the window and muttered about high school drivers. Spencer laughed lightly.

"We were all teenaged drivers once, Rossi. Although I try to block most of high school myself." It was Rossi's turn to laugh.

"Yeah, high school sucks, that's for sure."

Spencer guided the car into the parking lot, and parked it in a spot marked "visitors." He placed the FBI sticker in the window, and climbed out. Rossi followed behind him, and they showed themselves into the main office.


	3. Chapter 3

Spencer's Secret, Chap. 3-Confessions

Spencer and Rossi noticed a little boy run by, but he was so fast that Rossi didn't get a good look, but Spencer's photographic memory recorded the sight for him to replay later if he wanted. They were escorted to a small room near the principal's office by the secretary, a middle aged woman who had been making eyes at Rossi. Once they were inside the room, they found an older woman seated next to a young girl. They decided to ask the women their questions together rather than separate them.

"Mrs. Gold, what can you tell us about the night that Ms. Johnson was murdered?"

"Well, I had just arrived home. I take care of Detective Peterson's little boy until 5 pm most nights, but that night I stayed a little later because she needed me to do some cooking. When I got to my house-I still drive, you know-I noticed that Dottie had a male friend over. Then I noticed Ron Baker's car, and THEN I saw them in the window, in a compromising position." She looks pointedly at the child, and Rossi nods.

"I was concerned, because I knew that Detective Peterson had gone out to dinner with Ron Baker a few times, also, and was quite taken with him. I don't think she knows he has other women. Later that night, I noticed that she hadn't yet left to walk her dog, Buster, and by the time I went to bed, it was around 9:30 PM, and I could hear him howling. I went over and knocked, but there was no answer. Then I let myself in-I have a key because Ms. Johnson travels for work, and I walk Buster for her and water her plants. I found her, in the kitchen, bleeding out and called the police. It was Detective Garofani who showed up, along with Officer Sherman."

The two agents look at each other. Spencer filed this information away to share with Becky, if she ever spoke to him again.

"Thank you, Mrs. Gold." Rossi turned to the child, and smiled.

"Your name is Angela, right?" The little girl nodded, and Spencer sank to his knees. He spoke to the girl.

"It's all right, Angela, you are doing a great job so far. Thank you for talking to Mrs. Gold and Principal Jones. It's really helpful. Can we get you anything?" The little girl looked at him, then to Rossi, and then to Mrs. Gold.

"Can my friend Max sit with me?" Spencer looked to Rossi, who nodded. Spencer smiled at the girl.

"Yes. Is your friend Max here?" She shrugged

"I think he's with Principal Jones." Mrs. Gold spoke up then.

"He should be. He is the little boy I look after; good kid." Spencer stood, and told Rossi that he'd go find the little boy. Angela asked if she can come with him, and he smiled and nodded. They exited and went to the principal's office. Spencer knocked softly at the door, and it is answered by an older, balding man. Spencer smiled at him, and so did Angela.

"Principal Jones? I am Dr. Reid, I'm with the FBI. We're with Hannah Gold and Angela here next door, and Angela wants her friend Max to sit with her. Would that be ok?"

The principal nodded, and stepped aside. As the little boy came into view, Spencer had to grab the wall to keep himself from falling over. The little boy was his spitting image. Holy hell, if this was Becky's son, and the boy looked like him, then that could only mean…what? Spencer's head spun, but he pulled it together and smiled at the boy.

"Are you Max? Come next door and sit with Mrs. Gold and Angela. They both asked for you."

The little boy stared at him intently, and he could tell the boy was just as confused as he was. But the boy stood, grabbed a red backpack with the initials "SAP" on it, and followed them to the next room. As they entered, Max took Angela's hand, and Rossi gasped lightly when Spencer sat down, and Rossi could compare his colleague's features to the little boy's. The little boy introduced himself as the two men looked at each for a long moment.

"Hi, I'm Max. I was playing with Angie, and we saw Ms. Johnson. You wanted to talk to us?" Rossi snapped to the present, and nodded.

"Yes, I am agent Rossi and this is Dr. Reid. We work for the FBI. Can we speak to you and Angela, please?" The boy looked up at him, and smiled.

"You work for the FBI? Can I see your badge?" Mrs. Gold clucked under her breath, but Rossi nodded, and handed the boy his badge and ID card. Max looked at it, and handed it back. He turns to the girl.

"It's OK. It looks like my mom's. They're not strangers, not really. My mom said it was OK to talk to the police, as long as they have badges." The adults laughed, and Angela nodded, seriously. The two children sat at the table, and Spencer moved his chair next to the little girl. Rossi pulls a chair to the other side of the table, and the little girl began to tell them what the two children saw.

"Well, Max and I were playing with my Polly Parrot doll, and we go to the back sometimes because the bigger kids pick on us, and we like to play alone. We aren't back there for too long, and we always go together, in case one of us gets hurt or something. Anyway, we saw Ms. Johnson. She was hugging the fireman, but not like I hug Max. More like mommy hugs daddy or like big people do on TV. He kissed her, too, which was SOO gross. But then the bell rang, and we had to go back for music class." Rossi smiled encouragingly, and Spencer asked a question, having recovered from the shock of seeing the boy.

"Did you happen to notice what the fireman was wearing? Could you hear what they were saying?" The girl nodded again.

"Yes, we were being quiet because Polly was sleeping. I think he told her that they could go away somewhere. He said that Ms. Johnson was the only woman he loved. He was wearing jeans and a red sweater, and Ms. Johnson still had on the snowman sweater she was wearing. It was windy today." The two men exchanged looks, and Rossi scribbled in his notebook. He looked up at the children, and he notices the little boy is looking at the table.

"What's wrong, son?"

"Nothing. Just-are you going to tell my mom that we were playing in the back? Because I am not supposed to." Rossi smiled and shook his head.

"No, I don't think it's necessary to tell your mother. But you should stay where an adult can see you, OK? Not so much that you could get hurt, but you could be kidnapped, or an earthquake could happen, and you can get really scared." He looked serious, and replied.

"I promise we won't sneak off to the back anymore." Rossi nodded.

"Great. Is there anything else you can remember?" The children shook their heads.

'That's OK. Thank you for speaking with us. Angela, I think your mother is here to take you home. If you two think of anything, tell your parents, or Max's mother, and we'll take care of it. OK?" The children agreed and Angela stood up as her mother appeared in the doorway.

"Sorry I couldn't make it earlier. Thank you for sitting with her, Hannah. Hello, Max." Max replied.

"Hi, Mrs. L." The woman ushered the girl out, and Max turns to Reid and Rossi. He smiles as Mrs. Gold collected her purse, and some paperwork that Rossi had given her. She arose and took Max's hand, as Max spoke to Reid.

"So Ron doesn't really like my mother then, does he? I hated him from the beginning; something about him just drove me crazy. Besides, he made Mom upset when he wouldn't call." Spencer looked at him sadly, and nodded lightly.

"I understand. No, I don't think that he likes her as much as she liked him. I'm sorry, kid." He turned to Mrs. Gold.

"Is there anything else you need?" Mrs. Gold shook her head.

"No, thank you. If it's all right, I'll take young Mr. Peterson home; would you please relay to Ms. Peterson that I am only able to stay until 5 PM this evening?"

"Of course." He watched as the older woman and boy leave the room, and turned to Rossi. He spoke to the older man he has come to consider both an admired superior and a friend.

"That was supremely awkward. Are you ready?" Rossi raised his eyebrows, but nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. Hotch wants us all to meet back ASAP. The detectives are done at the new crime scene, and are headed back with Prentiss and Morgan."

"Let's go." They let the secretary know that they were finished, and headed back for the department. On the way there, Rossi turned to him from the driver's seat.

"Ok, Reid. What's the story here? The kid, is he yours? What about your relationship with the detective? You guys seemed…odd earlier." Reid sighed.

"I don't know if he's mine. He sure looked like me, didn't he? Anyway, as far as Detective Peterson goes, we met originally during the summer before I graduated college, the same summer I committed my mother. She was the next-door neighbor, and apparently, her and Mom had struck up a friendship. She showed up one day to take Mom to the park for a picnic lunch, but I wouldn't let her. Eventually, she got to me, and we spent the summer hanging out, and she was really understanding and helpful with Mom. It was Becky who went with me to the sanitarium.

She had kissed me a few times, and I liked it, of course, but I never imagined that she really, truly liked me, you know?" He paused, and Rossi smiled a little, and Spencer continued.

"Then one day, we went to visit Mom and spent the whole day with her. When we got back, it was nearly dark, but still so hot outside. It was her idea that we play in the sprinklers in her backyard and eat ice cream. That's when she kissed me again, but this time, I kissed her back, and one thing led to another, and well, you know…" He stared out the window at the passing cars, feeling himself blush. Rossi was silent for a moment before he replied.

"Spencer, I know it's really none of my business, but maybe you should talk to her, OK?"

Spencer shrugged and let himself out of the vehicle. They walked in silence to the elevator and into the main office area of the precinct. They spoke to Hotch, and filled him in on the things that both witnesses had seen.

1530 Hours

Pahrump PD

The agents and detectives had finished their profile: the unsub was male, mid-thirties, blue collar worker, and due to the brutality of the crimes, likely has a history of either childhood abuse or a juvenile record. Besides Ron Baker, they are interested in talking more to the pool boy who knew the first victim, and the Captain had gotten an anonymous tip that put the local drunk at two of the three crime scenes. As Hotch excused them for the time being, Becky approached Spencer.

"Look, I'm sorry for my coolness earlier. Seeing you brought up some old stuff. But I think I'm OK now." He nodded, and remembers the words that Rossi had spoken to him just a little while before.

"I met your son today. He's a very nice kid." He noticed that Becky paled, and placed a hand on her arm in case she passed out. Hotch came over then, and spoke to Spencer.

"Is everything all right?" It was Becky who answered.

"Yes, sir. It's fine, but I think it's time that Spencer and I had a long chat." Spencer raised an eyebrow, but agreed. Hotch pursed his lips lightly, but sighed.

"You can use the Captain's office, if you like." Becky frowned and spoke to Spencer.

"Actually, if it's not too much trouble, I thought that Dr. Reid and I could head over to my house. I live right next door to the Inn, and we can chat there. Besides, I'd really rather have Max's involvement." The older man gave his permission, and as Becky gathered her things, and Spencer grabbed his cell phone and cardigan, Garcia cornered him.

"Hey, I had a few minutes to work on that thing. The kid was born at Clark County Hospital on November 13, 2001. So he's just about to turn 11, I think. Anyway, there's no father listed on the birth certificate, but I was able to discover that his blood type is B+ and that Becky's is O. So, his father has to be the B+. Hope it helps." He nodded at her and thanked her.

"Yes, thank you. I appreciate it, Garcia."

"No problem. Let me know if you need more." She bounded off, and fell into a conversation with Morgan as Becky exited her office, and headed towards Spencer.

"Are you ready? Excuse the mess in my car; Max likes to have these action figure things with him when we run errands and stuff." He followed her into the hallway. She turned to him as they rode the elevator and exited the building.

"Do you mind if we don't talk until we're there? I just need a few quiet minutes to figure out what to say."

He nodded, feeling the same. They climbed silently into her SUV and she pulled the car out and into the street. He watched her drive; she was silent, but the way she was gripping the wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white frightened him a little. She guided the car expertly through the quiet streets, and in just five minutes, they pulled into a driveway in front of a picturesque bungalow that is indeed right next to the Inn.

In fact, from her front porch, Becky could pelt the window in the room he is sharing with Morgan with a rock. She climbed out, carrying her purse, and Spencer followed quietly behind her. He hadn't noticed that her car had been particularly dirty, if anything, the opposite was true. Granted, there had been a superhero with the accessories spread across the dash, but they had been lined up neatly. She fumbled with her key in the lock, and when she opened the door and gestured him inside, Spencer smiled.

It was totally what he would have pictured Becky owning: the insides were painted mauve with cream and green accents, and the couch was an overstuffed cream-colored leather one, with pretty pillows and a green throw over it, where a cat was snoozing. He saw her bookcase, stuffed full with various books, kids and adults, and more DVDs and videos than he'd ever seen. There was a big desk in the corner, with a computer and a file cabinet. He followed her into the kitchen, which was a galley style kitchen, and saw Max sitting at the table, surrounded by books. The boy's head was down, and he chewed thoughtfully on the end of a pencil, but looked up when he hears Becky enter. She smiles at him, and greets him.

"Hello, my son. I want to talk to you. Do you remember Spencer? I'm going to talk to him, too. Do you want some juice?" He sighed, stacked his books neatly in a corner, and Spencer noticed that he stacks them in alphabetical order. Max smiled up at his mother and Spencer.

"Hey, Mom. Hi, Dr. Reid. What are we talking about? Can I have some orange juice, please?" Becky is standing at the refrigerator, pouring drinks. She nodded and handed the boy a glass of orange juice. She answered him curtly.

"We're talking about adult stuff. Go, please, and get the cat off the couch. Go put Mr. JinglePaws on your bed, and wait in there with a video or something. I want to talk to Spencer first, and then I will come and get you when we're ready, OK?" She turned to Spencer as Max left. Spencer replied.

"His cat is called Mr. JinglePaws?" She nodded.

"Yes. Max found him under the porch last Christmas. We hung signs, and no one ever claimed him, and he took to Max, so I let him keep the animal. But actually, Max is responsible, and takes good care of him. Do you want something to drink? Milk, water, orange juice? A beer? Some wine? I am out of soda, but I think there's some mineral water somewhere." He shook his head.

"I'm ok, thanks. Help yourself, though." Becky nodded, and pulled a bottle of sparkling water out of the fridge. She lead him into the living room and indicated the couch for Spencer, and he settled in. She sat in an armchair the same color as the couch, and faced him. She opens her mouth but Spencer interrupted before she can speak.

"Max is my son, isn't he?" She nodded. He continued. "I had Garcia look you up, and she found his birth certificate. There's no father listed, but his blood type is the same as mine. And he looks like me." She nodded again, and peered up at him.

"Yes. It was that night…during college, remember? I know that because you were my first, and the only one around that time. I didn't have another man until Max was two. I'm sorry that I never told you. I just didn't want to be a burden, you know? I could take care of us by myself, and you needed to go to school unencumbered, and without distractions. If I had known you'd show up ten years later, I'd have taken vacation or something. But do know that he didn't know, and he's been asking. " She laughed nervously. Spencer gazed at her.

"I guess I understand why you never said anything. But what happens now?" She shrugged.

"I don't know. I didn't think that part out." He sighed. "Thank you for not freaking out, though. If I were you, I think I might have left by now." He smiled at her, a tight-lipped smile.

"I am telling you, it's hard not to. I think I would like to have something to do with him; he seems like a nice kid. You've done a good job with him."

"Thank you. He's a great kid. He is so smart, too. He's in the sixth grade; he skipped two grades, and they want to move him up to the eighth grade after Christmas. I am a little reticent; I don't want him to get too far ahead too soon. He won't be socially ready for high school for a bit; he's just now realizing that girls actually don't have cooties. And that Mom is a girl, but she's OK for a girl." Spencer laughed as she stood.

"I guess I should go get him, now. What will I say? Oh, man, I've totally messed up this time, haven't I?"

She said this more to herself than to him, and as she hurried down the hall, he stood and looked at the photographs she had arranged on the top of the TV stand and the desk. There were pictures of Max, from babyhood until now, and a few photographs of them together-one at the beach, one at Yosemite, and one in San Francisco. Then there was a photograph of her in her police uniform, receiving the "Officer of the Year" award last year, which is framed next to it. There is also one of her father and aunt, whom he heard had both passed away. The rest of the frames were Max's school work, art pictures, and little notes he'd written to his mom for Mother's day. Finally, there was one of the two of them together, both of them laughing, holding ice cream cones and he smiled. She's gorgeous in the picture, and he wondered where it was taken. A small voice startled him, and he turned around to face Max.

"That was last year, at my school's Summer Fair. We go year-round here. Mom is using the bathroom, she told me to make sure you're OK and don't need anything to drink." Spencer shook his head.

"I'm still OK. Let's sit down. What name do you prefer I call you?" The little boy shrugs, pushed his glasses up his nose, and sat next to him on the couch.

"Most people call me Max, because my Grandpa used to tell me that I was so smart that I was Spencer to the Maximum. But sometimes Mom calls me Spencer or Spence. That's my actual name, Spencer Allen Peterson." Spencer raises an eyebrow.

"Ok, well, how about Spence, then? I have the same name as you, but when I was little, my mom called me Spence. Or sometimes Spency, but I hated that." The boy looked him in the eye, and started to speak, but is interrupted by Becky.

"Sorry, gentlemen. What were you just talking about?" Spencer looked sheepish, but Max answered her seriously.

"Dr. Reid wanted to know what I preferred to be called. I just told him that most people call me Max, since that's my nickname, but I told him that my real name is Spencer. I told him he could call me Spence." Becky nodded.

"Well, then, I guess that's OK. And it's OK for you to call him Spencer, or whatever he wants for you to call him, OK? You don't have to call him Dr. Reid anymore, but thank you for minding your manners."

"You're welcome, Mom. What did you want to talk about?"

"A couple of things. First, you know how you have been asking about your father, but I didn't want to tell you? Well, it turns out that Spencer is your father. He and Mommy knew each other a long time ago, and then Mommy went to college near Aunt Vicki, and Spencer went to college all the way in California. I didn't know I was pregnant until October, OK? And I never told anyone, not even you, because I wanted to protect you, and Spencer. I didn't want us to distract him from his studies, because I cared enough about him to know that he didn't need any reminders of home. And then when you were born, well, I suppose I could've given you up for adoption, but the nurse handed you to me, and I fell in love with you. You were mine, and we'd spent nine months getting to know each other, and I just couldn't. And so when the social worker came by to do your birth certificate, I told him that you would you are named after the man who I was in love with. And then I took you home to Aunt Vicki the next day, and we dressed you up and put you in your stroller and took you out on the town. And even back then, you were so smart; you were so alert from the very first day. From then on, it's just been you and me versus the world. I admit it hasn't been easy, or perfect, but I am not a bad mother, am I? We've had a good time, right?" Max nodded at her, and climbed into her lap. She smiled down at him, and then at Spencer, who grinned back.

"Yes, Mom. We've had a lot of fun. You're not a bad mom at all. I think you're the greatest mom ever. But you're not really a great dad." The two adults laughed.

"Sorry. I am at a disadvantage, being a girl and all. I'm glad you're not mad at me. I just want you to understand as best you can that I thought I was protecting you, OK?" Max leaned up to kiss her and then climbed out of her lap and sat on the couch, close to Spencer. Becky continued.

"There is something else, too. Ms. Johnson was found dead this morning. I know that she was your favorite. Once the FBI people are finished with their investigation, there will be a funeral. But I want you know that she won't be at school. Do you remember when Grandpa died? It's the same thing." He looked saddened, and starts to cry quietly.

Becky stands and crosses over to him, and pulled him into a tight embrace. She looked up to Spencer, who reached over and pat the child's back, but looked a little lost. It was quiet as the boy sobs into his mother's chest, and after about a half-hour of sitting in silence, Becky realizes that Max has cried himself to sleep. She pulled him gently out of her arms, and whispers to Spencer.

"Poor little guy. He loved Tammy. She was a good teacher, and just simply nice. I'm going to take him to his room; can you stay a few more minutes?" He picked up the boy and carried him down the hallway and laid him on his bed as Becky follows behind. He stepped back and watched as she pulls off his shoes and pulls the blanket over him, and flipped off the light. She scratched the cat behind his ear, and shuts the door, pulling Spencer out of the room behind her. When they are in the hallway, he puts a hand on her face, and she inhaled sharply.

"Spencer." He smiled at her, and lead her back to the living room, sitting her on the couch. She gazed up at him.

"Oh, please just solve this case fast, OK? I don't want any more teachers or mothers or my friends dying. It's so hard, it's just a small town." He touched her face again, which caused her to grin lightly, and leans into his hand. They sat in silence and stared at each for a moment, before a hoarse voice interrupted them.

"Mom? Spencer? What's going on?" Spencer took his hand away from her face quickly, and Becky giggled.

"Nothing, dear. I was just telling Spencer to hurry up and solve this case. Are you feeling OK? Do you need some dinner? Let me walk Spencer over to the Inn, and I'll make something." Max glanced up at her, and shook his head.

"Can't he stay? If he's my father, shouldn't he eat with us?" Becky peered questioningly at Spencer.

"Yeah, can't I stay? Although I should probably call and let the others know we're all OK." Becky bit her lower lip for a moment, but then heaved a sigh.

"I guess you're right; you two should probably spend some time getting to know each other. But I agree; you should call over and let them know I didn't kill you." Spencer shook his head, as Max jumped up and down. He dialed Morgan and spoke to him while Becky addressed her son.

"Thanks, Mom. What're having for dinner?" She rolled her eyes; since he'd turned ten, the kid had been an eating machine.

"Roast chicken that I bought at the deli, and some potatoes, and maybe some asparagus. Or a salad. What sounds better?"

"Asparagus. It makes my pee smell funny."

"Jesus, Max. Ok, asparagus it is. Why don't you go get your books off the table, and I'll start cooking. You can show Spencer around, ok?" He bounded off into the kitchen as Spencer hung up with Morgan and faced to her. Becky spoke.

"I hope roast chicken from the deli is OK."

"Sounds great. Do you need some help?"

"Sure. Let's go into the kitchen." She arose, and he trailed behind her. She spoke to Max, who was gathering his books.

"Mom changed her mind. You should finish your homework instead. Mom and Spencer will help while I am cooking, all right?" She handed Spencer a pot and the bunch of asparagus.

"Do you know how to clean this up?" He nodded.

"Yes, I have had to learn to cook for myself."

"I see. Max, please get Mr. Jinglepaws out of here." The boy sighs, but picked up the cat, and carried him out of the room, speaking to the animal.

"Mr. Jinglepaws, you have to stay in the bedroom. Mommy hates when you're underfoot. Now stay here." The adults laugh as he shut the door and returned to the kitchen. "Hey, Mom. How do you spell "austere?" Becky giggled.

"Are you sure that's the right word?"

"Yes. It's on my Reader's Club spelling list."

"Oh. Well, then, maybe you should look it up so that you know yourself."

"Fine." He flipped open the large dictionary on the table, and began to scan the pages. Spencer looked at him, interested.

"He's in an advanced reading program. They bus him to the middle school three times a week. He is learning now how to research words he doesn't know."

"Oh. He's really smart, isn't he?"

"Yep. And interestingly, he has a photographic memory, as well. And a little bit of OCD. So he's pretty much your carbon copy." He smiled down into the asparagus, which he had finished snapping, and put it into the pot of boiling water that Becky had started. He watched as she hurries around the kitchen, pulling out spices and stirring things, and every so often glancing over to the table, where Max was hard at work. Spencer sat quietly at the table and watched the child work for a minute.

"Max, um, do you want some help? You look like you're struggling." The boy peered up at him, and adjusts his glasses. He peeked at his mother, who nodded quietly, and turned her back to them.

"Sure. Thanks." Spencer moved to the chair next to him, and pulled the books closer to him as he scanned the papers. He glanced up at Max.

"You wrote this yourself?" The boy nods.

"It's really good. Hey, Becky, did you know that Max is really good at writing these vocabulary stories?" She laughed as she sat plates of food in front of the males and took a seat next to Spencer.

"Of course." They ate in easy silence for a few minutes, until Max piped up.

"Hey, Spencer. Can I see your badge?" Spencer nodded, and reached into the pocket of his pants, producing his FBI-issued badge and ID card. Max turned it over, and then looked up Spencer.

"Are you a special agent?" Becky peered sideways at Spencer, as he laughed but shook his head.

"Not exactly. I am a psychologist, actually. I study the psychology of criminals, and why they commit crimes. I work with the special agents to catch the bad guys."

"Cool. Does this mean that you're Mommy's boss?" Becky laughed now.

"No, Spencer has a boss, too, and for right now, that's who I report to, instead of Captain O'Farrell. Now, eat your dinner, OK?" Max rolled his eyes, and picked up his fork.

"Ok, mom. Sorry." She reaches over and ruffled his hair as he stabbed a spear of asparagus and pops it in his mouth.

"Max, I know for a fact that you were not born in a barn. So please use your table manners." He appeared sheepish and the three resumed their silence for a little while, until Spencer's cell phone rang. He excused himself and exited to the living room to take the call. It is Hotch, and there had been another murder. Spencer sighed as he turned off his cell phone. He returned to the kitchen to tell Becky the news, and as he filled her in, the doorbell rang. Max answered it, and escorted into the kitchen Detective Garofani, and his daughter, Frankie. Detective Garofani smiled lightly at the scene, but spoke in hushed tones to the adults.

"I've brought Frankie to watch Max. There's been another murder, and we're all needed at the crime scene. It's Jamie Ross. Apparently, the rumors weren't true." Becky shook her head.

"I told you. I guess we should head out."

She raised her voice a few octaves, and calls for her son, who has long since abandoned his dinner. He appeared in front of the group, clutching Mr. Jinglepaws, and Becky talked to him.

"Frankie is here to watch you because Mommy needs to go catch some bad guys. I will be home late, so you will be asleep when I get here, OK? Be good for Frankie. Mommy will see you in the morning." She reached out and enveloped the boy in a hug, and kissed his head. He grimaced, but nodded.

"Ok, Mom. I'll see you in the morning. I love you."

End of Chap. 3


	4. Chapter 4

Spencer's Secret, Chapter 4-Suspect Behavior

So I forgot to thank my Beta reader in the opening. Thanks, Patty, for all of your help!

1700 Hours

The Peterson's home

Pahrump, NV

"Tell your agents to keep her safe," Max told to Spencer. The adults laughed and filed out of the house, and into the Inn, where the FBI agents had set up a makeshift office in one of the Inn's meeting alcoves. There, they meet up with the agents, and Captain O'Farrell, who is speaking quietly with Agent Hotchner. The agents looked up when the three enter. There is some murmuring, and suddenly, Hotch strides to Becky and indicates that she should sit down next to Prentiss. She did, and he spoke to the her, and to the group assembled, also.

"Ms. Peterson, the Captain and I have decided to pull you off this case. This came earlier, before the call about the murder." Becky, who had paled, took the piece of paper that Hotchner held out, and read it. It is a death threat, apparently from the unsub, who named her and her son explicitly, along with a few other women in town. She handed it back, and sank back into the chair and then she began to shake a bit.

"No, I can work through this. Just a detail. For Max. I have a badge, and a gun. He's just a little boy." Spencer inhaled sharply, and everyone turned to look at him. He smiled

weakly, but nodded.

"A detail is a good idea. I can do it myself." The captain shook his head.

"No, son. It's against protocol; family protecting family. I'll assign officer Sherman to it. He's very competent. Now, Becky, I really think it's wise for you to back off. This death threat names you specifically, and perhaps now is a good time to take off to wherever you and your son want to spend the holidays."

"No, sir, I am going to stay right here." The older man considered.

"Fine. Just keep yourself safe. If you do this, know that you put everyone else at risk, too." She hesitated for a moment, but then sighed deeply, and looked around the room. She nodded firmly.

"Well then, how about if I stay behind and do the news interviews and stuff? Perhaps Agent Hotchner can coach me on the FBI's stance. I know we have a profile now, and I know that we've narrowed down to three suspects, but perhaps putting out a call for information would be helpful." The Captain nodded his consent, and Hotchner agreed and finished assigning duties, and when everyone separated to go their ways, he walked to the woman, who still sat in the chair she'd sank into, and to Spencer, who stood next to her, talking to her in a low voice. He interrupted their quiet exchange.

"Dr. Reid, I really need you to head out now, OK?" Spencer nodded, and turned to follow the others upstairs to change and then out into the field. Becky smiles up at the FBI agent, and he sat quietly next to her.

"Are you sure it's safe, having yourself exposed?"

"No, but it's better than the alternative. Please, police work is my life, and I need to be a part of this collar."

"Ok. I may regret this later, but OK. Let me have Garcia put together a dossier for you, and then we can contact the news outlets."

"Great. I know the guy who runs the local radio station; his wife is my hairdresser. The Flemings. His name is Paul."

"That would be a great place to start. Please stay here with Garcia and she will have the information you need in just a minute." Becky agreed, and Hotch stood to leave with the Captain. The two men were going to locate the women named in the note, and try to get them evacuated. Becky sighed, and wandered over to where Garcia had set up her computer, and plopped down into a green armchair near the woman.

"Hi, I don't think we've officially met. I'm Becky Peterson."

"Penelope Garcia. Nice to meet you." Becky smiled, and Garcia looked at her sideways.

"What?"

"What did Hotch mean earlier when he said that family can't protect family?" Becky bit her lip.

"Dr. Reid is my son's father."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Go Spencer. Damn, and I had him pegged for a square. Our boy gets out more than I thought. Spill all." She turned away and clicked some keys as Becky stared at her, openmouthed.

"Well, I don't know what he's like now, but even back then, he was really square. Actually, so was I. But there isn't much to spill. I mean, it was one night before he went to college, and it just happened. He never knew, until now. That's it."

"This is such a mind-fuck. I mean, the boy genius has a past." Becky giggled, but looked questioningly at Garcia.

"A what?"

"Mind-fuck. A lot to wrap your mind around."

"Well, then, yes, it's really a mind-fuck. So what exactly do you do for the FBI?"

"I hack stuff."

"Wait, isn't that illegal?"

"I don't know. I just follow orders."

"Right. So, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Hang on-" she tapped more keys, and a portable printer spat out some papers.

"Is Spencer seeing anyone back home?" Garcia looked at her, eyes wide, and then smiled.

"I don't think so. He doesn't talk about his personal life much, but I pay attention, and I know that he went out on a date a few weeks ago, but the girl hasn't called him back. He was seeing an agent from LA for a bit, but alas, that, too, vaporized."

"Hmm. I would've expected he'd found some pretty little thing already."

"Nope. I gather he's pretty much a hermit. If he didn't have a kid, I would've bet he was a virgin."

"Oh, well, definitely not. How about Morgan? He's cute, and you two seem to have a little-something-going on?"

"He's a friend."

"Uh, huh. And that's the hardest place to be, between friend and friendlier." Garcia laughed.

"Well, I am seeing someone."

"Oh, well, now that is just sad. You two would be cute together."

"Sadly, it's just not meant to be. Help yourself, though; he's rather dishy, and I noticed you checking him out." Becky blushed, and giggled.

"Guilty. But I don't think he likes me much."

"He just thinks you're young. Plus, he sort of regards Spencer like a brother, and you're the source of pain for our resident genius, so he is a little annoyed."

"Yeah, I never imagined this scene." Garcia handed her the papers from the printer, and then clicked some keys to produce a script.

"So, Hotch just wants you to put out a call for information for now. Leave out the part about the profile for the time being, but anything else is up to you. If they ask you questions-answer them, don't answer them, say you can't comment, whatever you feel comfortable with."

"I can do that."

"Great." Just then, Becky's phone rang, and she excused herself to answer it. It was Ron Baker, and he sounded mildly annoyed.

"Becky?"

"Hi, Ron, how are you?"

"I'm OK. But you never did call me back; is everything all right?"

"Not exactly. I am sorry I didn't call you back; Max and I got busy, and I just couldn't get Franny Garofani in enough time; I think she had cheerleader practice today."

"I understand. Where are you now? I could come over," he said, hopefully.

"I'm sorry, I'm actually working. Max is at the Inn with Julie Garofani, and stuff has come up. But maybe next time."

"Wait, is this about the FBI agent?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw him come home with you, Becky. Look, it's OK, I mean, I know we never talked about being exclusive, but I just thought we had a good thing going." Becky sighed, and perched on the armchair again.

"Firstly, he was coming by to pick up some case files. Since I live next to the Inn, where they are all staying, it just made sense that he rode with me. Secondly, you're right, we HAD a good thing going, but I wonder if the other girls you've been seeing know that." It was silent for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca. It's just that you were so distant, and you work so much. I'm a man and I have needs, you see." Becky made a disgusted sound in her throat and spat out a response.

"Well, then. You'll understand that I have needs, too, and I need to never see you again. Good bye." She snapped her phone shut as Garcia tried to look deeply interested in her work. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, Penelope."

"Call me Garcia. It's OK. I have gathered that your man isn't exactly on the up-and-up." Becky sighed, and glanced at the papers she is holding.

"Thank you for writing a script; I tend to get tongue-tied when I address a large group of people."

"No problem. We use those a lot in our work, so I figured we could just tweak some of the words, which I did for you, to fit to this case."

"Awesome. Can we clone you? We could use someone efficient at the Department."

"I don't know. I think the FBI would probably have to kill you or something."

"Death is seeming more and more preferable to the hell I am about to face when this case is over and reality sets in." She chuckled lightly.

"It won't be so bad. Spencer is intelligent, and very logical. He can be reasoned with."

"I was referring more to my son, but that's good to know."

"How is he handling it?"

"He seems smashing, but that's the hell of it; he is a sensitive child, but tends to be a little passive-aggressive, and I just fear that he's not talking to me about his feelings."

"I imagine it would be hard. You know, my childhood wasn't pretty, and neither was Spencer's-"

"I know. That's one of the reasons I never said a word to him. I knew he needed to go to college to get away from home, and the memories, and I know his mother was sick, even back then. I just-I thought I was doing the right thing. But maybe I was just being selfish. I don't know."

"Me, neither. This is beyond anything I've ever heard of. Anyway, I was going to say that I could talk to him, if you want." Becky considered, and the two women were silent for a moment.

"Hey, do you want some coffee or tea? I know Julie, and she'll have the coffee maker on all night. Her and her brother take turns working the desk, and tonight is her night. Sometimes, I get one of her girls to come over and stay with Max for a while, and I'll come over for girl talk and we'll have a beer or some wine."

"Coffee sounds great. I take it black."

"Great. Be right back." She hurried down the hallway and into the Inn's dining room, which also served as the town's dance hall on Friday nights, as there is a bar in one corner. She found the percolator in the corner, and filled two mugs that read "The Inn at Pahrump" with coffee, and since she takes hers black also, went back down the hall to find Agent Hotchner and the Captain having returned.

"Hi. I didn't expect you back so soon; I can go back for more coffee. I know where Julie Garofani keeps the extra mugs; she wasn't in the dining room, so I think she was upstairs with her youngest daughter, Nicole." Captain O'Farrell spoke to her.

"No, thanks. I am going to head for home myself; Rita has my dinner waiting. I wanted to tell you that all three women have headed out of town, all escorted by Agent Prentiss and Steve."

"Great. I am glad they're taking it seriously."

"I wish you would reconsider, Rebecca."

"Really, though, where would I go? I have no family, and all of my friends are here. This is where I belong." The Captain nodded; he felt sorry for his young detective these past few days. She had really no one to turn to, and while he knew she was close with her partner and his family, he too wished she had a mate or boyfriend or just anyone, really, who could help her out.

"All right then. Agent Hotchner, if you need me anymore this evening, both Detectives have my home phone numbers and my personal cell."

"Thank you, Captain. My regards to your family." The old, balding captain nodded, and left the alcove quietly as Becky turned to Hotch.

"How about you, sir? Coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee would be great, if you show me the way, I can help myself."

"I don't mind. I'll see if Julie has an extra coffee pot we can plug in here, though I am sure I have one somewhere."

"That would be a great idea; I am sure the others would appreciate it, as well."

"Well, Julie and Jamie, that's her brother, keep the percolator in the dining room going all night for guests, and Julie's mom, Pam, is an awesome cook, and they keep serving food until 10." Becky realized that she is rambling, and then smiled lightly and turned to exit the alcove, almost running smack into Morgan and Rossi.

"Hello, gentlemen. Coffee is on the way, and Garcia wrote me an awesome script. Be right back, and then we can debrief, yeah?" They nodded as she hurried past, chastising herself for being an idiot as she does. She hurried to find Julie, who has returned to tidy up the dining room from dinner, and when she saw her friend, Becky collapsed into a nearby chair.

"Oh, I don't think I'm mature enough to deal with this, Julie." Her friend looked at her sympathetically, and handed her a piece of pie from the dessert tray by her side.

"On the house. Eat. Mom's key lime pie does the trick every time." Becky nodded, and took a bite and relished the sweet pastry. She took another bite, then handed the plate to Julie.

"I can't eat that, it has so many calories."

"This from the woman who lives on animal crackers and Mexican food. Eat it now, or I will be forced to call the Captain."

"Geez, you sound like my mother. Fine, I'll eat the darn pie, but if my thighs are bigger in the morning, I hope you feel badly." Julie looked at her over the top of her square-framed glasses and rolled her eyes.

"Please, dear. You're hardly in danger of gaining weight; didn't you say that Max was becoming more active lately?"

"Yeah, from the meds he was on for the OCD. I took him off those, though, they made him too hyper."

"So Steve told me about the FBI agent."

"I know. I think everyone in town knows."

"Probably. How are you, truly?"

"I don't know. It's all a lot to deal with so suddenly. I mean, I always imagined it happening, just not like this."

"Nothing in life is ever perfect, Becks."

"Oh, no, I know. Believe me. But I was hoping it would be less, I don't know, public?"

"Well, if you want my advice, let him help you out if he's willing. It's been just you for ten years. Give a little bit of it over to this guy, and cut yourself some slack. You're a really great mom, but sometimes I think you try to be perfect. Then you fall short." Becky nodded as she handed the now-empty plate to Julie, and stood to help the woman finish gathering plates.

"Sit back down; Franny and Daniela are coming down to help. I had Franny bring Max here for the time being; he's sleeping in the blue room." Each room in the Inn had a color theme, and the Blue room was Max's favorite, as Julie took the blue theme to mean "under the sea" and had painted a mural of sea life along the walls.

"Thanks, Jules. I actually came to get some coffee, and see if you had a pot we could set up in our little makeshift corner."

"Of course I do. Let me grab it; it's in the office. Here, take the coffee cart, too, and I'll get you some more sugar, sugar." Becky smiled; she loved the older woman's soft Southern accent and the homey way she welcomed everyone. She had a very calming quality to her, and Becky was glad. She sat back as the older woman bustled around the room, watching her friend, and hoped that someday, she'd be the same type of woman as Julie: aged well, with a bit of gray at her temples, making her look wise but not old, a still-slim figure, and a very calm personality. She also envied her friend for her marriage; Steve and Julie had a very romantic story; they had been high school sweethearts and married young. They had the three girls, and Becky suspected that Nicole, at just twelve, had been a happy accident. Becky sighed, and took the cart as Julie disappeared behind the counter leading to the kitchen. Julie returned a moment later, laden with a sugar bowl, and packets of diet sweetener. She placed the sugars on the cart, and from her apron pocket, unearthed a small glass bottle of cream, and placed that next to the sugar. She held up a finger, and went back into the kitchen and returned with 6 coffee cups.

"We only need 4. I have one, and so does the tech girl."

"Ok. Anything else?" Becky shook her head.

"No, I think we're good. Thanks, Jules." Julie waved her hand as Becky left the room to head back down the hallway. When she arrived, she discovered that Prentiss and Spencer had returned, as well. She smiled lightly at the two agents as she wheeled the coffee cart next to Garcia's table. She sat quietly next to Spencer on a couch that Steve had hauled in from the dining room, and listened as Prentiss assured Hotch that all the women had been safely seen off to various locations. Becky sighed in relief, and the agents began to discuss the new things they'd discovered. Becky was half-listening, as she was tired, but something that Morgan said stuck in her head.

"For some reason, he is targeting all the blonde, blue eyed young women in this town. We need to figure out why that matters." Just then, Daniela Garofani bounded up the hallway, her pretty blonde hair flying, and delivered a tray of pastries.

"Mom sent these; she figured you'd all be hungry. Oh, and Detective Peterson, Max is up." Becky stared oddly at the girl as something clicked in her mind. The others looked questioningly at the detective, as Daniela excused herself and hurried back down the hall, scared by the woman's behavior. Becky turned to Detective Garofani and spoke quietly.

"Steve, how old is Daniela these days?"

"She'll be twenty in two weeks. Why?"

"Twenty. And blonde. Blue eyed, though they're contacts." The Agents looked at each other, then back to the woman, who had begun to pace the alcove. She spoke in a low tone, almost to herself.

"What I can't figure out is that if the perp, or whatever you people call him, is just killing blonde, blue-eyed women because he was dumped in High School or whatever by the prom queen, then how come Daniela wasn't on the list? Or really, half the high school? I don't think your profile is accurate." Steve inhaled sharply; he hadn't considered his daughter a target.

"What are you thinking, Becky?"

"So if Daniela and someone like Stephanie Miller-she was the Homecoming queen this year- isn't in the killer's path, then doesn't it make sense that there's something else going on?"

"Becky, make your point." She grimaced at her partner, but continued.

"What if the unsub isn't male? What if, in fact, they are the female lover of the unsub? I am leaning towards one of Ron Baker's harem; if someone was jealous enough of the others, it would make sense to eliminate your competition." The agents shared a look, but Reid interrupted.

"It could be, I suppose, but the crimes were pretty brutal. I don't think a woman could have done this."

"You, then, have little experience with a jilted woman. Especially if the woman has any history of mental illness or abuse." The room fell silent for a moment, but then Hotch replies.

"Ok, what if we tweak the profile? Who are we looking for?"

"Just an idea here, but I'm thinking maybe an old lover who never got over him, or maybe a new one who wants the idyllic life. I don't know exactly." Morgan interrupted.

"Actually, that might make sense. Prentiss, didn't you say earlier that it was strange that all the women killed so far had Ron Baker in common? And he certainly has a type." Emily nodded.

"Yes. But if we're changing the profile, we need to zero in on Ron Baker. Why him, Detective?"

"Just women's intuition, I think. I hope I'm wrong, but most of me thinks I'm not." Reid interjected, though.

"Look, Becky, I'm sorry, but I just can't get behind the idea that we should change the profile based on some gut feeling."

"I don't expect you to, just entertain the idea." The FBI agents looked to each other, and nodded. Hotch answered.

"Ok, why don't we tweak the profile, and then get back to you two as soon as we have it figured out? Miss Peterson, go on home with your son, and we'll call you if we need you before tomorrow." She nodded.

"Um, ok." She left the alcove, silent, and hurried down the hall. The room was silent for a few more moments, and then Steve spoke up.

"Well, I guess I'll head upstairs, then. Please, excuse me." Hotch nodded as the man saw himself out. He turned to the others, and spoke.

"Ok, I need you, Rossi, Garcia, Morgan and Reid to sit here and tweak the profile. Prentiss, come with me." He lead Emily to a corner of the alcove as the others pulled chairs closer and spread their files out. They worked quietly, aware of a quiet shift in the air, and tried to listen in on their colleagues' conversation.

"So, we need a new suspect list, and since we're possibly dealing with a female unsub now, I want you to kind of lead from now. I'll tell Morgan. Plus, we need a new suspect list, and I hate to say this, but Detective Peterson will be on that list, since she fits her own profile, at least until we can rule her out. I am sure that Reid won't be happy, but I want you to do her interview, OK? I'll deal with Spencer; maybe I can pair him up with Rossi to do the rest of the interviews-they did well with Mrs. Gold and the little girl."

Emily agreed, understanding the impact of her boss's words, and answered.

"Whatever you need me to do is fine. I can speak with Detective Peterson, although I doubt seriously she is our unsub. She's too happy, and MY gut tells me she is too much on the up-and-up to be a killer. But maybe I'm wrong; though I hope for Spencer's sake that I'm not." Hotch nodded.

"Me, too. Thanks, Emily." They stepped back towards the others, and Hotch addressed the group.

"Ok, everyone. Emily and Derek, I need you two to write up a new suspect list, and then let's break for the evening, and then we'll meet again tomorrow. Reid, can I see for a minute?" The young man looked up from his file, nodded, and stood to follow Hotch to the same corner he'd occupied with Emily just minutes before.

"Spencer, we're putting Detective Peterson on the new suspect list. I know it sounds crazy, but she did say it was a lover of Ron Brown's, and, according to Garcia, they'd had a heated phone call, and she might be angry enough. It's just procedure, but I wanted you to know." Spencer set his jaw.

"Ok. She's not going to be happy, though, I don't think. But I do understand. Let's just try to clear her as fast as we can."

"I will have Prentiss interview her first thing in the morning. Her inclusion on the suspect list excludes her from a detail, though. I am phoning the captain right now."

"What about her son?"

"I'm sorry, Spencer. The detail WAS for her son." He sighed.

"Sir, I want to do it myself, then."

"You cannot. But what I can do is take you off this case, and then you do what you feel is right. But you will need to turn in your badge and gun for the remainder of the case." Spencer considered for a moment.

"That's not necessary. But I just want you to understand that I am annoyed by the FBI's policy on this, and when we return to HQ, I want to speak to the director."

"I understand. But please try to focus, OK?"

"I will. Is there anything else?"

"No, you're free for the evening."

"Ok." He stalked out of the room, annoyed, and headed out of the Inn for Becky's. He had a sudden urge to see her, but realized it is late, and he was risking her annoyance at him. He shrugged, though, as he rang the bell, and smiled when Becky answers it, clad in old sweats, her blonde hair in a ponytail, and tiredness reddening her otherwise blue eyes.

"Hey, Spencer. What's up?"

"Can I come in? There's been some developments, and I wanted to review them with you." She nodded, and motions him in.

"Sorry, it's a little cluttered right now; Max and Franny were playing board games tonight." He smiled lightly as his gaze flickered past her to the living room. There wasn't much of a mess, but it did appear that Becky had planned on leaving the dishes for the morning. She indicated the couch, and cleared the plate and glasses out of the way.

"Want some tea? I just put the kettle on." He nodded as she carried the things into the kitchen. He grinned at her retreating figure; even in sweats, she was nice-looking, and he had momentarily reconsidered his motives for going over. It was another minute before she returned, carrying a tray with a teapot in a cozy, and two mugs with sugar and little bit of cream. She set the tray on the coffee table in front of him, and sat down next to him.

"How do you take it?"

"Um, with sugar and milk." She indicated that he should help himself, and he watches as she prepares her cup plain. She sank back, her hands wrapped around the cup, as if it would warm her. He spoke again.

"Sorry to interrupt so late."

"No, it's OK. I was just going to review the case file a bit, and do some catch up on a cold case I'm working, and then I was going to sleep a bit. Max is scared; he knows what a detail looks like, and he spotted Officer Sherman, even though he was using his personal car. I owe him a lot; he and his wife just had a baby, and he should be home with her instead of covering my six."

"He wasn't. He was covering Spence."

"I know. But I'd really rather just do it myself. I gave him the night off; the Captain will have my head in the morning, but I can deal with him." Spencer looked surprised.

"Is that really a good idea?"

"Sure. It's nighttime, in a tiny little town. And he lives with me, and I have a badge and a gun. I am an excellent markswoman, I'll have you know."

"Still, you might be a little too close to the situation. Which brings me to the real reason I'm here. You probably didn't need to cancel your detail; Hotch was going to pull it. Your idea of tweaking the profile worked, but now you're on the suspect list. It's mostly a formality." She looked blankly at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"You've all lost your minds. First, I'm a targeted victim, and now I've targeted myself? Doesn't make a whole lot of sense, does it?"

"No, but like I said, it's a formality."

"Great, so while I am being formally interrogated, the real murderer is still out there, killing girls. Nice." He winced at her sarcasm.

"I tend to agree, but my boss is unmoved."

"So what do I do, then, Spencer? Police work is my life; am I just supposed to sit at home and knit?"

"No, Prentiss is interviewing you in the morning, first thing. We're going to try to get you off the suspect list as quickly as possible."

"Great. Can't I just go over to the Inn and do it now?"

"No. I wasn't supposed to tell you. But I had to. I figured this would annoy you."

"Damn Skippy it annoys me." He chuckled at her choice of words; he'd remembered her uttering that phrase before.

"You used to say that before."

"I know. My mother said it. She was from the Midwest, and they all have weird phrases out there."

"Anyway, you're aren't supposed to know until the Captain calls you."

"Well, thanks, I suppose."

"I tried to get Hotch to let ME do the detail, but he wouldn't allow it."

"No, that's good. I would hate for you to be watching Max, and it turn out to be something. I couldn't stand it. For both of your sakes." He nodded at her as she appeared to become a little bit sad.

"Are you OK?"

"Yes. I'm just…I just want you to know that I thought I was doing the right thing for both you and Max by not telling you about him. But I wonder if I wasn't just being selfish. I don't know." He sensed that she needed comforting, and moved a little closer and placed a hand on her knee. She tensed slightly, but then relaxed momentarily.

"I know. I wish you hadn't felt like that, but I DO understand."

"I wonder if Max hates me. He says he doesn't, but in a year, or two, will this come back to haunt me? I mean, what if he starts to act out? That's what sucks the most-that I let him down. I mean, I'm his mother, so I am supposed to be honest with him, but at the same time, he's such a sensitive boy that I thought it would hurt him emotionally, you know?" He spoke gently to her and tried to assuage her feelings.

"I am sure he doesn't. Do you want me to speak to him?"

"Maybe that would help. Anyway, enough about me. I'm sure I'm keeping you from something." He noticed that she had shifted her weight to lean closer to him.

"Not really, but I was going to phone my friend JJ."

"Oh, well, he's probably dying to hear from you. Don't let me keep you."

"It's a her, a former colleague. I am the godfather for her son, Henry. I was going to call her about Spencer, she knows all about kids. I'm at a loss, you see." Becky laughed heartily.

"I guess so. Garcia was telling me about you now, and it seems that you don't date a lot. Why is that?"

"Remind me to tell Garcia to mind her own business. It's mostly because of work. This job keeps odd hours, and I'm away a lot."

"Yes, but it can work if you want it to."

"Also, I guess I just haven't found the right girl yet." He bit his lip and became suddenly very aware of her femaleness and a strange sort of feeling in his stomach.

"I see." They sat in awkward silence for a moment, until Becky sighed a weary, tired sigh.

"I'm sorry, it's late, I should go." He moved to stand up, but Becky reached out for him.

"Wait. One more question."

"OK."

"That night, when you said that you loved me, did you mean it?"

He sat back, stunned, and inhaled. He exhaled slowly, and responded.

"Yes." He watched as she shifted closer to him, her face almost in his.

"Then why did you never call?" He shrugged.

"I was scared that you'd find some other guy because you were SO pretty, and nice, and smart, and I feared the rejection."

"Really?"

"Yes." He watched as she licked her lips and then bit her lip. He knew it was a nervous move, as she had done that same motion several times that day, but in that moment, his body read it as flirty, and she surprised him by leaning forward and kissing him. He kissed her back, and then she deepened the kiss as she laid them on the couch. He moved his body to be on top of hers and they kissed for a few more minutes, until she pushed him away.

"No, we, um, we shouldn't do this." He sat up, flustered, and slightly annoyed.

"What? Why?"

"You need a reason? Ok, here's one: our son is sleeping in the next room. Here's another: you're investigating me in a series of murders. Here's another: I haven't seen or spoken to you in ten years. Here's-" he cut her off.

"I'm sorry. But yes, our son IS sleeping in the next room. And he's ten years old, and he will understand. It's not like we're having sex in the hallway outside his bedroom door. Kissing is what parents do. Secondly, you are a suspect, but I am seriously considering removing myself from this case. And even if you haven't seen me or spoken to me in ten years, you have to admit that there is some electricity here." She softened, and raised a hand to touch his face.

"Yes, I have. I've been trying to ignore it, though, because the repercussions scare me." He lifted her hand off of his face and kissed it as he places it in his.

"Look, I know this isn't ideal, but I would really appreciate having a place in Max's life. AND in yours. I don't know how that will look yet, but we can play with it, right?" She smiled.

"Right." She leaned into him again, and he kissed her again, passionately this time, and she melted into his chest and allowed him to pull her close. They kissed for several moments, and then Spencer pulled away, gasping for air. He is exhilarated by her touch, but also thrown; it feels both so right and yet so grating on his senses. He embraced her again, his hormones winning out over his brain, and she melted into him again, but then she pulled away, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to his feet. His brain was foggy, and her forwardness frightened him a little. She pulled him down the hallway to her bedroom, and she stopped, suddenly shy and smiled at the floor, and he realized that she wants him to make the move, so he opened the door and guided her by her hip to the bed, where he sat her down. He sat next to her and murmured.

"We don't have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable." She looked up at him as her blue-gray eyes shone , and shook her head.

"It isn't that, it's just-well, my body isn't what it used to be." He grinned; he was trying to seduce her, and she worried about her body? He reached for the hem of her sweatshirt, and answered her.

"Neither is mine." She giggled as he regarded her curvy body, filled out from her pregnancy and time. She was still slim, though, and she took pains with exercise and diet so that she stayed decent looking, as much as is possible when you're a single mother. He smiled, and they made love, after Spencer assured himself that are doing it safely. They fell quiet, and as they cuddled and relaxed after, he whispered to her.

"So how did it compare to last time?" She laughed.

"Mmm, I think we've both had some improvement. It was great. How about you?''

"Agreed." They became quiet once again as he drew lazy circles on her back, and she rested her head against his bare chest. They lulled, and soon fell asleep.

At four the next morning, Spencer sat bolt upright in Becky's bed. He glanced at her alarm clock, and grimaced at the time. He cursed himself for falling asleep, and slipped out of the bed quietly as he tried not to wake Becky, who was still sleeping next to him. He shivered, the cold desert morning woke up his foggy brain. Becky stirred next to him as he fumbled for his trousers.

"Spencer? Are you OK?"

"Yes, shh. Sleep, OK? I'm heading back to the Inn." She was a little more awake and sat up, and he smiled at her still-naked figure.

"Do you want me walk you over? There's a serial killer on the loose." He grinned, but shook his head.

"No, thanks. You stay here, and get some more sleep. I'll see you in a few hours, though, OK? I'll show myself out."

She nodded as she laid back down, and snuggled deep into the sheets as he finished dressing and let himself out the door, and to the Inn. He was let in by a man who identified himself as Julie Garofani's brother, and he hurried up the stairs to the bedroom he is sharing with Morgan. He let himself in as quietly as possible, and as he opened the door, he was surprised to see his friend sitting at the table in the room, a book open, and looking up at him with an eyebrow cocked.

"Good Morning, Spencer."

"Hi. What are you doing up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep, and I thought that reading might help. You're getting in late." For a moment, Spencer considered telling him that he had gone into the City to see his mother, but he thought better of it.

"Yes, I was over at Detective Peterson's house, and I fell asleep."

"I see. Well, you'd better get some rest because Hotch is calling us in early to start interviewing new suspects. Your girlfriend's "idea" set us back a little." Spencer grimaced at him and spoke curtly.

"Firstly, she's not my girlfriend, and it's her idea that may lead us to the actual killer. Can you turn off that light?" He dashed into the hallway to use the communal men's bathroom to change his clothes, and he rinsed his face. His face still glowed and he couldn't seem to stop smiling, but he hurried back into the room, and climbed into the twin bed across from Morgan's and turned his body to face the wall. He smiled internally as Morgan killed the light, but doesn't get into bed, and let his mind replay the evening. Soon, he had fallen into a light slumber, and was surprised when he felt Derek, now changed into his work clothes, shaking him awake.

"Hey, lover boy. Hotch wants us downstairs in fifteen minutes." Spencer scrambled out of bed, and grabbed his suit from the closet and hurried to change. He returned to the bedroom, located his hairbrush and shaving kit, and returns to the bathroom to clean up. Ten minutes later found him downstairs in the alcove area, mixing three sugars into his coffee, and dodging questions about his whereabouts the previous night. He settled himself at the table, and began paging through the new suspect files. Just then, a familiar laugh floated down the hallway and snapped him back to the present. He stood, and strode down the hallway and smiled as he saw Becky going into the dining room. Max followed her, but turned as he glanced at Spencer in his periphery. The kid stopped and waved.

"Hey, dad. Mom is taking me to the doctor, so I have to miss school today." He nodded and followed the two into the dining room. He spots Becky, with her back to him, and smiled at her outfit. She whirled around when Max spoke.

"Mom, Dad's here." She smiled lightly at Spencer as he indicated her outfit. She wore a white sundress with pink roses embroidered on it, a denim jacket, cowboy boots, and a fedora. She had curled her blonde hair and was wearing a bright fuchsia lipstick.

"Hey, since I'm now a suspect, the Captain won't let me work. So I felt like dressing up. Max has a doctor's appointment, and then I'm going to get my hair done, and then we'll drive to the City for dinner."

"When are you interviewing with Prentiss?" She looked suddenly annoyed.

"Whenever she calls me, which she hasn't yet." He frowned.

"Yeah, we all just started. Keep your phone on." She then fell into a conversation with Julie as he spoke to Max.

"Why are you going to the doctor?"

"It's my psychologist, actually. Mom thinks it will help me because I'm so smart and had to skip grades and stuff." Spencer considered.

"She's probably right. Depending on what happens today, I'll be over for dinner."

"Yeah!" He waved to Spencer as Becky ushered him out of the dining room, nodding to Spencer as she did. He smiled lightly at Julie and excused himself as she peered at him over the rim of her glasses. When he returned to the alcove, Hotch raised an eyebrow at him.

"Just reminding Detective Peterson to expect a call."

The FBI agents fell back into their work, and Spencer, who had been assigned to interview suspects with Prentiss, began with the most recent-an ex-girlfriend of the unsub, a woman called Renee Dugan. They drove together to the woman's place of employment, the local bar, as she was a bartender. They discovered that she has an alibi for all the murders; she'd been in Iowa for a family wedding and had only returned the previous evening. They worked steadily through the list, until they came to a woman called Emily James, one of Ron Baker's current girls. She was unemployed, lived with her parents, and had a history of mental instability. It was when they spoke to her, though, that their suspicions were piqued.

"Ron loves me. He does. All the other girls he sees are just for fun. He's a man, who follows his pecker to whatever bit of hot pepper he can find." Spencer and Emily shared a look. Emily questioned the woman.

"What do you think of all the other girls? Do you know them?" The woman nodded.

"Some of them. I knew the teacher real well, we were friends in High school. But the one I was worried about was the cop." Spencer stiffened, but remained silent as Emily continued.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she was the only one who was both smart enough and pretty enough to be any real competition."

"But she isn't now?"

"I'm not worried. Since she told Ron she was no longer interested, I figure, why worry?"

The woman smirked, and lit a cigarette, and continued. "Besides, that kid of hers would've been a problem. Ron doesn't like kids. He'd have had to go."

Emily steps quietly in front of Spencer when she sees that he'd gone white. She excused herself to the woman for a moment.

"We're done for now, Ms. James. Dr. Reid, can I speak with you outside, please?" Spencer nodded, and followed Prentiss outside, breathing deeply to calm himself.

"Are you cool?"

"Yes, sorry. I lost it for a moment, but I'm OK now."

"Good. How did she know about the phone call? I thought only Garcia, us, Peterson, and Baker knew about it." He shrugged at his colleague.

"Good question. I think we should ask her." Emily nodded, and turned back around to knock on the door. Emily James answered it quickly.

"One more question, Ms. James. How did you know that Becky Peterson told Ron Baker that she wasn't interested?" The woman paled for a moment, but then answered.

"He was down at the bar last night, talking about it."

"I see. Thank you, that's all for now." Prentiss turned away as the door shut behind her, and as the two hurried back to the car, she dialed Garcia.

"Garcia, I need some phone records, please."

"For whom, lovely?"

"Emily James. Also, I need the address for the local bar."

"Which one?"

"What do you mean?"

"This is Nevada. There's, like, seven bars in a ten-block radius." Prentiss sighed.

"All of them, then."

"Ok, give me a minute. Check your phone, honey, in, ten, nine, eight…now."

"Thanks, Garcia."

"Welcome. I'll call you or Lover Boy when I have the phone records." Emily laughed.

"Thanks." She clicked off and turned to Spencer, who was driving.

"Garcia just sent the addresses of all the bars in town, and she will be calling one of us when she has the phone records." He nodded but concentrated on his driving, as it was lunch hour in the small town, and every worker had filed out of their place of business to buy lunch. He grimaced as someone cut him off pulling out of a gas station. She regarded him; he looked weary, and he had been unusually quiet.

"How are you doing, anyway? Rossi spilled the beans about the kid. What a mind trip that is, huh?" He frowned, and muttered under his breath something that she couldn't quite make out, but that sounded a lot like "Stupid Rossi." She smiled lightly, but remained quiet, as she sensed he didn't really want to discuss it. But she was surprised when a few moments later, he began to speak.

"Emily, you're a woman. Can I ask you something?" She nodded.

"Sure."

"If someone guy you hadn't seen in ten years suddenly shows up, what would you do?"

"I would imagine that I would react the same way that Detective Peterson did, at first."

"Ok. I am beginning to realize that I share some of the blame here. I should've been in contact with her. You can't just share a night with someone, tell her you love her, and then disappear, right?" Emily considered.

"I suppose not."

"Right. I'm just-confused, I guess. I mean, the feelings are still there, but there's more now. The kid-he changes the game now. I wish I had more time here, you know? I hate that, in a few days, we will be leaving to head back to DC. I love her, though, that much I know. What do I do?" Prentiss shrugged.

"Do you really want my opinion?"

"Why not?"

"Well, I think you have a few options here. One is to do nothing, and just pretend like it never happened. According to Garcia, who talked to Detective Garofani's wife, Det. Peterson has never sought any kind of legal action against you or anyone else for child support or anything. She would probably be OK if you just left," he shook his head, hating that idea, "Option two: cash in your vacation, stay on a little while, and see how it goes. Option three, and this is risky, but from a woman's perspective, the most awesome thing ever: Whisk her off to DC with you and then come up with a really good reason for her to stay." He nodded as he turned her words over in his head.

"Thanks, Emily. That's really sound advice. I appreciate it."

"Sure."

He parked in front of the first bar on their list, which is actually attached to the backside of the Inn, rented from Julie and her brother. They strode in, badges ready, and spoke to a man who is cleaning glasses behind the counter. He looked up, and spoke.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm Agent Prentiss and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI. Was Ron Baker in here last night?"

"No, I'm afraid not. He usually prefers The Sighting, over on Main, across from the Mormon church? That's where the law enforcement folks frequent. When you get there, ask for Julio. He's the manager, good kid, will answer your questions." They thank him and exit the building. Prentiss shook her head.

"This state blows my mind. A bar across the street from a church."

"Welcome to Nevada. Let's go." They climbed into the car once again, and he pulled out a map of the city that he'd found in the drawer of the desk table in his room. A little while later, they pulled up to an old-fashioned saloon that reads "The Sighting." He turned to Prentiss.

"Did you know that this area is considered the beginning of the UFO highway? If you were to draw a line, it would go straight from here to Roswell." Prentiss raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hmm. I didn't know that." They let themselves out, and into the saloon, where a pretty young redhead and a slightly older, muscular Hispanic man were standing behind the counter. Prentiss spoke

"Hello, we're looking for Juilo." The man smiled, and spoke with a soft accent.

"That's me."

"We just need a few moments of your time, if that's all right." He nodded, and turned to the redhead.

"Roma, why don't you go count the vodka, OK?" She scurried off, and the man came around the counter and indicated a table.

"Shall we sit?" Prentiss lead the way, and the three sat at a table near a jukebox. Spencer looked around; he'd never been in a bar before 6 pm, and it looked different, almost scary. He allowed Prentiss to take over, wondering if JJ had gotten his text from earlier. He'd wanted to speak to his friend about Becky, and his son, but she had yet to return his call. He tuned in as Prentiss began her questioning.

"The bartender at the Bar at the Inn told us that Ron Baker frequents your…establishment."

"Yes, Mr. Baker and the other firefighters are in here maybe three, four times a week."

"Was he here last night?"

"Yes, for a little while. Upset about a phone call. He said it was that pretty little detective. Rejected him, and he wasn't taking it well. Personally, I think she could do a whole lot better." Spencer cleared his throat.

"What do you mean?"

"She has that kid, nice boy. Real polite. But she needs a man who could take care of her, and of him. Someone who is strong and brave. Like me, for instance, not some volunteer fire fighter on loan out from the City."

"He's a volunteer?"

"'Course. There's only three paid firefighters in the whole county-the Chief, the underchief, and this guy Massy, who's been with the department since God invented sand." Spencer chuckled as Prentiss continued.

"When you say Ron Baker wasn't taking it well, what do you mean?"

"He was upset, bellowing, and drinking a lot. More than he usually does. And talking big."

"About what, specifically?"

"Some chick he was going to go away with. Oh, and I remember him specifically saying something like if he couldn't have the Detective, no one could, and he'd make sure of it."

"Why didn't you call the police?"

"If I called the police every time someone drunk makes a statement like that, I'd have them here all the time. I chalked it up to the whiskey, and called another firefighter to take him home."

"What time was that?"

"About 9, maybe? It was Karaoke night, so I was swamped. I didn't need him causing problems."

"I understand. Thank you for your time. If we need more, we trust we can find you here?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." The two agents showed themselves out, and they headed back to the Inn after speaking to Hotch.

When they arrived, Prentiss requested to see Hotchner alone. They stepped into the corner, and Prentiss told him about her thoughts.

"I'm going to do a phone interview with Detective Peterson, but I think we really need to concentrate on Emily James. Also, Spencer is very worried for the kid's safety. Can you reinstate the detail?" Hotchner nodded.

"Thanks. I still want you to question the others, but I'll have Morgan take her off the list. And I'll speak to Reid; was it problematic?"

"No more than it would be for any of us if it was our family involved."

"OK. Thanks, Emily." She nodded, and they stepped back into the alcove. Hotch spoke quickly to Morgan, and Emily picked up the phone and dialed Detective Peterson.

"Detective Peterson? Hi, this is agent Prentiss. I'm well, thanks. Do you have a few minutes?"

She paused as the woman answers.

"Great. OK. Well, Dr. Reid can verify your whereabouts for yesterday evening, and your work records corroborate the rest. What time did Ron Baker call you?"

She paused again, smiled, and nodded.

"Perfect. Thank you. I think that's all. Your captain will be calling you soon; you're off the suspect list, and we're zeroing in on Emily James."

She pause again.

"Yes, really. Ok, well, we'll see you tomorrow, then." She sighed and hung up, glad that she could at least make someone in the town happy. She saw Hotchner talking to Spencer, who is looking relieved. He smiled at her, and she smiled back as she say down and began going through case files, looking for something, anything, that would confirm her suspicions about Emily James.

End of Chap. 4.


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: Third chapter of "Spencer's Secret." Spence and Becky romantic goodness.

1500 Hours

The Inn at Pahrump

Spencer joined Prentiss as she dug up the dirt on Emily James, and recruited Garcia to help. The three of them determined that Emily James was a transient, grew up in Utah, but floated around the West until earlier that year, when she settled in Pahrump. They discovered that her life had not been easy, and that she had suffered a pattern of abuse at the hands of various boyfriends. Her employment history was spotty, and she had barely graduated high school. She seemed to gravitate towards men in uniform and men who were in relationships already, and better if the two were found in the same man. All these signs made Emily James appear to be more and more a likely suspect. Spencer, though, had a little doubt, and aired his concerns to the others.

"Ok, here's what still doesn't make sense, though. Prentiss, you saw Emily James. She's smaller than I am and the victims were pretty brutally killed. I wonder how she could actually commit these murders on her own."

"Do you think that she has an accomplice?"

"Maybe. The teacher would've been hard to kill; there would have been more witnesses, I think. And the other woman, the businesswoman? She was a big person, and I just have trouble picturing Ms. James taking her on. I think she's a part of this, but I don't know how." Prentiss nodded.

"Me, too. OK, so what if we check out who else besides Ron Baker this Emily James goes with?" Spencer nodded and turns in time to see Becky as she flew down the hallway with detective Garofani behind her. She spoke in a low, hushed tone as she arrived in the alcove.

"Spencer? Is Agent Hotchner here?" He shook his head as she gathered the others around.

"Darn. Well, I went by the station after I dropped Max off with Daniela, and there was a phone call waiting for me. It was on my work line, not my cell. Anyway, it was the brother of Emily James; he lives out on the Air Force base, which is why she moved to town, I think, anyway. It turns out that he spoke to her last week, and she was drunk or something, talking really crazy, and said that she was going to go away with Ron Baker, and that he was going to take care of the "other women" in his life, and that she would leave with him this weekend. He said that he had heard from Officer Sherman that we were investigating Ron Baker in a series of murders, and that he felt like he should say something. I saved the message so that you all could hear it if you wanted." Spencer looked to the others, and Morgan stepped forward.

"Why don't I go back to the station with you, and we can record this message, and Reid will get Hotch here as fast as is possible?"

"Sounds great. Let's go. Please excuse the mess in my car; my kid has a penchant for scattering pieces of his action figures everywhere." He nodded as he slid his phone into his pocket, and stood to follow her out. Spencer's voice followed them out.

"Actually, Becky, it's a superhero."

She looked at Morgan and shrugged, and continued out to the Inn's parking lot, and indicated her SUV.

"I am the green SUV over there." He climbed into the passenger's seat as Becky slid in next to him. She turned to face him.

"Are you OK?"

He nods, but looks out the window. She continued.

"Look, I gather you don't like me much, for whatever reason, but do know that I am sorry for what ever you think I did or didn't do to Spencer, OK?"

He shrugged noncommittally, and she sighed, but turned around, fastened her seatbelt, adjusted the mirrors, and pulled carefully out of the parking lot. It was a few minutes later that they arrived in silence at the station. She let herself out, and waited quietly as Morgan did the same. They entered the building and silently headed upstairs. Once they arrive in her office, though, Derek smiled lightly. The pictures of Max were back, and he liked her plants and the art work from her kid that hung on the walls. It was hard to hate her for hurting his friend and for distracting his colleague with the kid, especially when she apologized for it. He turned to find her buried in a file cabinet, and he spoke to her.

"Det. Peterson? Can I listen to the message that was left for you?" She peered up at him.

"Yeah, of course." She closed the file cabinet, and set a blue file folder on the desk. She settled herself in her chair and motioned to a seat for him. He sat down in the chair she'd indicated, and listened as she pushed a button on her desk phone. Sure enough, it is someone called Dale James and his message was pretty much exactly like the detective said. He nodded as she saved it.

"Ok, Garcia gave me this recorder thing," he pulled a voice recorder device from his pocket, "So what we will have to do is replay it and then we can email it to her so we can put it in the case file."

Becky now stood over him, her head bent down as she peered at the device. She pulled the device away from him and turns it over in her hands, then smiled.

"This is cool. I feel like I'm in a spy movie."

She giggled, and handed it back to him. He took it back from her as she went back to the phone. He followed her, and attached the device to her hand piece. They recorded the message, and then he plugged it into his phone and emailed it to Garcia. Garcia immediately texted him to say that she'd received it, and he relayed this to Becky.

"Ok, so Garcia has the voicemail."

"Great. I'm going to go ahead and save it for awhile, anyway. Should we go and talk to this Mr. James?" He shook his head.

"No, I think we should probably wait until Hotch and the Captain hear it. Besides, aren't you supposed to be out of the field?" She grimaced.

"I suppose I did say that, didn't I? Ok, I guess you're right. Do you mind waiting just a moment before we head back to the Inn? I need to use the ladies room." He nodded, and as she stood up to leave, he interrupted.

"Oh, Detective? I apologize if I was rude or distant earlier. I was upset because Spencer is my friend and my colleague, and he was hurting, and I saw you as the cause of that pain. But I think I was too quick to judge." She smiled at him, and responded.

"I understand. Thank you. I AM sorry, though. Please know I never meant to hurt him, or anyone, really. I thought I was doing the best thing for everyone, but now I wonder if it wasn't just the right thing for ME. Does that make sense?"

He nodded, and she hurried down the hallway as his cell phone rang. It was Garcia; Hotch and the Captain had returned, and wanted the two to come back to the Inn. He relayed this information to Becky when she returned, and, after she scooped up the file she had removed from the file cabinet, she followed Morgan back downstairs to the parking lot. He questioned her as they exit.

"What's in the folder?"

"Some information for Spencer. About Max."

"I see. His name isn't actually Max, right? Penelope was trying to explain it to me."

"No, it's actually Spencer. We had a thing one night after high school, and then he left, and I went on to college. It is what it is, I guess."

Morgan nodded in understanding and climbed back into her car. She patted the file after she climbed in and put on her seat belt. "Max's school records, his medical files, a copy of his birth certificate. I figured Spencer should have a copy of all of it, because no matter what happens between us, he's still his father, and has expressed an interest in his life."

They chatted lightly during the quick drive back to the Inn.

"I think it would be good for Reid to have the influence of someone other than us in his life."

"Well, Max's insights to things certainly can be refreshing." Morgan laughed a little.

"Yeah, kids seem to. I know that because Hotch has a kid- Jack."

"Really? He doesn't seem like the daddy type."

"I suppose you only know him in a supervisory position. Besides, we were all a little leery when Spencer first reacted so harshly to you. It was a surprise, I think, that quiet, dweeby, slightly square Spencer Reid was losing his cool from a girl."

"Thanks a lot."

She laughed as they pulled into the parking lot at the Inn, and she parked near the door.

"But I think I know what you mean. I have to tell you, when you first showed up, I was in my office, freaking out. Steve was able to talk me down, but I was about to fake sick and cash in my vacation." They let themselves out of the car and entered the building.

"I'm glad you didn't; we'd have had to comfort Reid that he wasn't crazy, that he actually did see you, and your exit had nothing to do with him." She giggled as they entered the alcove, and the mood shifts immediately. It is the Captain that addressed them.

"Thank you both for going to get the phone message; Miss Garcia filled us in when we arrived back. Detective Peterson, since we have decided that you will stay here instead of being in the field, I need you in full uniform starting tomorrow; the commissioner is requesting dress blues, OK? Detective-" Becky interrupted.

"Captain, with all due respect, you have got to be kidding." He looked at her and shook his head.

"Sorry. It came across my desk this morning; a change in protocol. Effective immediately, all personnel in the rank of Sergeant and above will be in full uniform of the day if they're not assigned to field work. The only exception are undercover cops, obviously." Becky sighed, but nodded.

"Fine. Just so you know, the Commissioner will be getting a very annoyed phone call in the morning."

"Just keep it civil, Rebecca. Anyway, I was saying that you, Steve, will go with Rossi and Agent Hotchner to interview this Mr. James. Rebecca, please report back to the station; Mrs. Garofani has requested that we vacate her alcove." Under her breath, Becky muttered a statement that only Spencer, who had settled himself next to her, could hear.

"I'll bet she did. Right at the same time it was decided that I should wear a skirt."

He tittered, but shook his head when Hotch raised his eyebrows. They continued assigning tasks for the next day, and finally, the superiors excused the group. Becky turned to Spencer.

"Are you coming for dinner?"

"Sure. Let me get my things." She nodded once, and Garcia appeared in front of her.

"Did you have a chance to look over that script I made the other day?"

"Yes, I did. It's fantastic work. I will be ready tomorrow to give interviews; on our way back, Morgan and I spotted the kid from channel 5 in the City." Garcia nodded.

"I have Channels 5 and 7 confirmed, and the University's TV station has requested ten minutes."

"That's fine. I know the communication's professor, actually. He taught when I was there."

"You went to UNLV?"

"Well, I started at Southern Nevada Community College, and then I transferred the next year. But yes." Just then, Spencer appeared at her side, and she stood.

"Thanks for your help, Penelope. I appreciate it. I guess it'll be just you and me tomorrow, then, huh?" Garcia grinned, and loped off after Prentiss. Becky smiled at Spencer as he reappears in front of her.

"Let's go. I'll move my car around; I parked near the front, though I guess I should've parked in my driveway and walked." They exited the building, him with his head buried in the file folder she'd handed him.

"Wow, you've kept everything he'd ever need."

"Yes. I figure that in this job, my life could be at risk every day, and if something were to happen to me, I wanted it to be easy for whomever claimed him." He furrowed his brow.

"Would I have been informed?" She shrugged, and they climbed into the car.

"I don't think so, because you are not listed as a parent on his birth certificate. Which we can change, if you want." She pulled the car out of the parking lot and makes a sharp right into her driveway, and came to a stop. "Actually, that was one of the things I wanted to talk to you about."

She killed the engine and let herself out and motioned for him to do the same. He did, and followed her into the house. He didn't see Max, and she noticed him looking around.

"Max is at Angela's today. He should be back soon. I wanted to talk to you first."

He nodded as she settled herself near him on the couch, and began.

"So I was thinking today that perhaps we could talk a little bit more about the role you expect to play in Max's life. I was talking to his psychologist yesterday, and she feels that it is best if we maintain some sort of routine-perhaps every other month for a long weekend-given his propensity towards obsessive-compulsive behavior." He nodded.

"Well, I was hoping that we could come to some sort of agreement. Prentiss had some suggestions, but I wanted to hear yours." Becky looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

"What did Prentiss suggest?" He shrugged.

"Just that I figure out a way to convince you to come to DC." She smiled lightly at him, but looked to the floor.

"Well, I don't think that would work. I have some vacation, but otherwise, my job, my life, my friends-they're all here. But like I said, I can change Max's birth certificate to name you as the father. I can call the courts in the morning; luckily, the clerk owes me a favor." Spencer smiled.

"What will that do?"

"Well, mostly it will give you parental rights. And I have an attorney on retainer; I am doing a will and power of attorney for Max. I will call him to do a custody plan if you like. I am fine handling it between the two of us, though." He nodded.

"Ok. Well, every other month seems like it would be too spotty. What if we did one long weekend a month, and then we switched off Christmas and Thanksgiving, and then a few weeks over the summer break?"

"That would work. Ok. I think that's a plan. Wait, what about your place? Do you have enough room for him and his stuff?"

"I have a one-bedroom apartment in a doorman building. I will figure something out. I have a friend, JJ, and she just had a son, so I'll bet she has lots of ideas."

"Oh, I'll send you home with some tips." He grinned as Max entered the house, and the little boy's eyes lit up when he saw Spencer and his mother.

"Hey, Mom. Hey, Spencer. Are you staying for dinner again?" Spencer nodded as Becky smiled and replied to him.

"Hey, Max. Please put your things away and check the water for the cat, and then come sit in here with us. I want to talk to you, OK?" He nodded and hurried to do the tasks assigned him. As he did those things, Spencer turned back to Becky.

"I really wish I had more time here."

"Me, too. It's been SO nice seeing you. But I wish we had some time to catch up; I'd love to hear about your folks and the agent in LA." He raised his eyebrows, and Becky giggled.

"Sorry, Garcia spilled the beans." He shook his head, and started to speak, but Max appeared in front of them.

"Mom, I changed Mr. Jinglepaws's water, but we're almost out of kibble. Can we buy some more?" Becky nodded.

"Of course. We need to go shopping tomorrow anyway. Sit here by Mom for a minute." He did, and she turned to him.

"Max, I-we-wanted to talk to you about how things will look once this case is over. I am sure that you know that Spencer will have to go back to his home and his job in Washington, right? Well, we think it's a good idea if you visit him once a month, at Christmas or Thanksgiving and over summer vacation. What do you think?" He grimaced.

"You guys can't do that." He stood up and ran out of the room. Becky stared after him in bewilderment as she faced Spencer.

"What was that?" He shrugged.

"Do you want me to go after him?" She shook her head.

"Let's go together, but let's give him a minute." Spencer nodded in agreement, and after a few moments, Becky stood and motioned to him to follow her. They walked silently down the hallway to Max's bedroom. Becky knocked lightly and let herself in.

"Spence? It's Mom." They s aw the child lying face-down on his bed; he cried lightly. She moved over to the bed, and sat at the foot. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

He wailed something inaudible, and Spencer settled himself on the floor near the bed. Max sniffled a little and turned his head to face the opposite wall.

"I thought you and Spencer were going to get married." Becky chuckled lightly, and smiled at Spencer.

"I see. Well, honey, while that would be nice, you have to understand some things. Can you sit up so we can all talk?" He sighed, but sat up, and folded his arms over his chest.

"Max, Mommy and Spencer are old friends, and we're your parents, but to get married, you have to be in love." Max nods a little.

"Ok, but how come you're not in love?" It is Spencer who answered.

"It takes time to fall in love with someone. I love your mother, but I am not in love, I don't think." Max considered..

"But you said it takes time, so why can't we move to Washington or he can move here? And then we'll have time."

"Oh, sweetie. It's not that simple. Mom has her job, and Spencer has his. You have school, and all your friends. It would be hard."

"It would be OK. And Spencer spent the night last night. Angela's mom and dad sleep in the same room, and they're in love." Becky bit her lip, and looked to Spencer, who had a chagrined look on his face. He answered the boy again.

"I spent the night, that's true. But sometimes when adults are feeling lonely, we sleep in the same room for company." He blushed a bit, and Becky shook her head lightly. "Max, try to understand, OK, kiddo? Mom and I are trying to make this as easy as possible without interrupting everyone's life, OK?" Becky nodded as Max smiled lightly.

"Ok, I think I understand." She kissed his head, and then spoke.

"Good. I have an idea. Why don't you and Spencer spend a little time together, because I have to run to the market for a moment? Maybe you two can come up with some more good ideas while I am out."

"Ok, Mom. Don't forget the cat food."

"I won't." She stood up quietly, and excused herself out of the room. Once she was in the hallway, she located her purse and keys, and dialed Julie Garofani as she headed for the car. When the woman answered, Becky spoke in a panic.

"Jules, I need to get out for a moment. Want to drive with me to the market? I'll get you in a sec." The older woman agreed, and soon, they were enclosed in Becky's car, as she regaled the woman with the conversation that she had had with her son and Spencer.

"Jules, it was the craziest thing he's ever said. And how the hell did he know that Spencer spent the night? What the hell was I thinking, letting him spend the night in the first place? Oh, man, I've messed up again, haven't I?" Julie chuckled lightly.

"I don't think you have. Max has always had an imagination; I wouldn't worry. Besides, everyone in this town knows that Dr. Reid spent the night. You know that Mike Sherman tells his wife everything. And we know how big of a gossip she is." Becky sighed, parked and turned to her friend.

"So what do I do?" Julie smiled and let herself out of the car as Becky did the same. She grabbed a shopping cart, and as they entered the store, she tossed a few things in. Julie considered her words carefully, aware of her friend's intense dislike of nonsense.

"Well, normally, I would tell you that Max is being silly, and it's a phase. But I actually think he has a point. Look, Beck. Here's the thing-there really IS nothing stopping you from making a move here. Yes, I know you have a job, and worry about Max, but he's a good kid, and he'll adjust. As for your job, well, you can be policewoman of the year any old place. But Max needs his father. And the look on your face this morning, after spending the night with that gorgeous FBI agent, well, I think that you're lying to yourself when you say you don't have any feelings for him." Becky tossed some bread into the cart, and sighed loudly.

"I hate you sometimes, you know. Your logic makes me ill. Do you need some peanut butter?"

"I know you do, dear. But you don't mean it. We don't eat Jif."

"It's cheaper if you buy the two pack, but Max and I will never eat that much peanut butter. I guess I'll just get the small jar. I suppose you're right, though. But what am I supposed to do? Go back home, and fall to my knees, and declare that I love him and that he'd be stupid to leave me behind again?" Julie added some frozen broccoli to the cart, and nodded.

"I don't think it's necessary to fall to your knees, but yes. I wouldn't be so dramatic about it, though."

"Ha. And what if he refuses me?"

"Then you're right, and he's stupid, and that means you're better off without him. Do you need anything else?" Becky surveyed the cart.

"Food for that damned cat. If Max didn't love that thing so much, I'd have half a mind to send him away." Julie shook her head, and followed her friend to the pet food aisle.

"I don't understand your distaste for animals, honey. I really don't."

"That's because you never had an alcoholic father who never let you have one, and when you snuck a kitten home, he made you give it to the neighbor, who killed it." Julie bit her lip as Becky selected the cat food that Max prefers to feed the cat, and headed for the check stand.

"Well, shouldn't some of the blame be put on the alcoholic father, then?"

"Oh, he gets his fair share, don't worry." They checked out, and headed back for the car. As they settle back in, having stowed their groceries in the backseat, Julie turned to Becky.

"It's the fear of rejection that's really holding you back, isn't it?" Becky stared hard at her for a moment, but then nodded lightly. They arrived at Becky's house, and stay to talk.

"That, and a fear that he won't like the adult me. I am different than that girl I was, that he knew." Julie nodded.

"I think he knows that. You've been just you lately, haven't you?" Becky nodded. "Well, then, he must like what he sees." Becky nodded again.

"Ok, I guess you're right. I'll just let the chips fall where they might. Oh, have you got a pair of panty hose I can borrow?" Julie raised her eyebrows.

"Sure. Why?"

"Captain says I have to be in full dress uniform tomorrow, since I'm not in the field."

"Oh, yeah, Steve mentioned that you were upset about that. I'll come over later on." She let herself out of the car and headed for the Inn, carrying her bag of groceries.

"Thanks." Becky carried her groceries into the house and found the males sitting on the couch in the living room, playing with Max's Star Wars action figures. As she entered, Spencer rose to help her.

"Here, let me take something." She handed him a bag, and they carried the groceries into the kitchen, as Max followed behind.

"Mom, Spencer said I could see some cool dinosaur museums when I visit him." Becky smiled.

"That sounds like fun. So I got some stuff for a salad. Does that sound OK, or are you a meat and potatoes type?" She indicated the ingredients for what appeared to be a very complicated Caesar salad. Spencer nodded.

"Salad is fine. I usually just eat pretty simply at home, so having someone prepare a meal for me is great."

"I'll bet it is. Ok, I'll tell you what. Max, you can do the lettuce, and Mom and Spencer will do the chopping, OK?" He nods, seriously, and takes the bag of Romaine to the sink and begins to wash it. Becky turns to Spencer.

"So I take you two have some kind of agreement?"

"Yes. I think we have worked something out. He understands that even if you and I never get together, we can still parent him together."

"Thank you for explaining that. I have some vacation saved up; I was thinking that maybe for his first visit, I could come along and help you set things up for him, and show you his routine?"

"That might be a good idea. When were you thinking?"

"His school is year-round, so they will start a break in two weeks, and they last four weeks. Would the week of Christmas be too soon?"

"Barring any serial killers with a penchant for holiday mischief, I don't think so. Let's arrange it." Becky nods, and hands him some garlic.

"Chop these really finely. I'm going to do the dressing." She turns around to work at the opposite counter, and he turns to look at her, unsure what his next move should be. He is desperate to take her in his arms and tell her that if she has vacation, she should come the whole month of December, and then stay forever, but he didn't think that would be well-received, so he watches her move instead, and smiles to himself as she reaches over to Max and ruffles his hair.

"Good job, Max. Remember to tear them up really small."

"I know, Mom. Can I do the olives?"

"Sure. Can you reach the salad spinner, or do you need to use the stool?"

"The stool. I am still too short." Spencer chuckles.

"You always will be, kid. That's the Reid curse: the men are all short, and the women are all tall. My dad's sister was really tall, but he's shorter." Max nods, but concentrates on reaching for the spinner. When he steps off the stool, he asks Spencer a question.

"Do you have a mom? My mom doesn't have a mom." Becky sighs, but Spencer nods lightly.

"I knew that. She died when your mom was little. But yes, I have a mother. Her name is Diana."

"Like the princess. Where does she live?" Becky turns and raises an eyebrow at Spencer, but reaches out for Max.

"Sweetheart, please remember our discussion of inappropriate questions to ask adults, OK?" But Spencer shakes his head.

"No, it's OK. She lives in a hospital in Las Vegas." Becky inhales sharply, and he continues. "It's a hospital for people who have problems with their memories and their brains." Max nods, thoughtful, and Becky looks sadly at him. He shrugs at her and mouths something.

"I'll tell you later." She nods lightly, and turns around.

"Max, are you finished with the lettuce?"

"Yes." He hands her the bowl from the salad spinner, and then goes into a pantry nearby and returns with a can of black olives. He speaks to Spencer, as Spencer hands Becky the chopped garlic. She smiles big.

"Oh, thanks, boys. Ok, Max. Why don't you set the table and let me and Spencer finish up here?" He nods, and leaves the kitchen. Spencer lopes to the stove where she is standing, and she speaks to him a low, soothing voice.

"Is your father still alive?" He nods.

"Yes. Lives in DC, too. Works near Headquarters."

"Are you two still….having issues?" He chuckles.

"Yes."

"I see." She smiles lightly. "Can I offer a piece of advice?"

"Why not?"

"You might want to consider giving him a chance. Walking through life without a parent really sucks." He nods, and kisses her head.

"I guess you would know. I'll take it under consideration."

"Good." Just then, a small voice interrupts their cozy exchange.

"Mom, Spencer? Is dinner ready?" Spencer moves his body away from Becky's slightly, as Becky smiles at her son.

"Almost. I just need the olives, and some pepper. Which one do you want to do?"

"The olives." She nods once, and hands him the can and the can opener. He sets the can on the low island, and concentrates hard on the can, opening it as Becky watches carefully. He opens it, and hands her the can, smiling triumphantly.

"Good job. Ok, Mom will plate up the salad, and you and Spencer can get something to drink and meet me at the table, OK?" He nods, and heads for the fridge.

"Can I have a soda?"

"No, sorry. It's too late. How about some milk or juice?' He sighs, but pulls a plastic jug of apple juice out of the fridge as Becky hands him a cup. He pours it carefully, and Spencer smiles as he takes in the scene. He has enjoyed watching the interaction of mom and child, and longs for a place in the scene. Becky interrupts his daydream.

"Spencer? Do you want some wine or water or something?" He shakes his head lightly, and responds.

"Some wine sounds nice. Is it red or white?"

"Red. Can you get the glasses? They're in the cabinet above your head."

"Yeah." He pulls down two glasses, and carries them into the dining room, as she carries some plates along with a large wooden salad bowl. They settle down to eat, and Becky and Max fall into a conversation about his homework, and he eats in silence for a few minutes, until Max turns to him.

"Do you really have to go home at the end of the week?" Spencer nods, and sips his wine.

"Yes, unfortunately. I do." Max sighs big.

"I know. I wish you could stay until Christmas, though." He smiles.

"Me, too." Becky falls silent during their exchange, and Spencer smiles at her. She smiles back at him, and Max turns to his mother.

"Mom, can I watch the Charlie Brown movie tonight?" Becky nods.

"Did you finish your homework?" Max nods, too. Becky replies.

"Then it's fine with me. Just make sure to feed Mr. Jinglepaws. I put a new bag of food in the pantry." Max nods, and asks to be excused, having finished his dinner.

"Of course." He stands, and heads for the kitchen. Becky and Spencer hear the sink start as Max rinses his plate off, and then the pantry door open and shut. He walks through the dining room, lugging the bag of cat food. Spencer remembered seeing a small area with a plastic placemat and two small dishes on the boy's bedroom floor the previous night. Becky chuckles.

"Max, sweetie. Do you need help?"

"No, thanks." She giggles as he continues on down the hallway, and Spencer turns to her.

"Is he OK?"

"Yes, he is feeding the cat. I have tried to get him to pour some into a smaller container that he can store in his room, but to no avail." Spencer smiles. The adults finish, and clean up the kitchen, and soon, the three are assembled on the couch, watching the TV movie together. Spencer finds himself enjoying the quiet peace in the cozy bungalow, and scoots a little closer to Becky. She sighs quietly, and smiles to herself. At a commercial, Max rubs his eyes, and Becky speaks to him.

"Max, are you getting sleepy, honey? Why don't you climb up here with momma?"

"Ok." He climbs onto the couch, and settles himself between the two adults. They watch in silence for a few more minutes, until Spencer gathers Max into his arms, and the boy smiles. Becky glances sideways, and smiles to herself at the boys. A few minutes later, she hears Max's breathing evening out, and turns to Spencer.

"He's asleep." Spencer nods, and stands, still clutching the boy. He carries him down the hallway and sets him on his bed, and Max wakes up, mumbling.

"I'm not ready for sleep. Did Snoopy go home?" Becky answers.

"Yes, sweetie. It's time for sleeping now, OK?" He mumbles some more, as Spencer pulls his shoes off. Becky moves to his dresser, and hands Spencer some pajamas.

"I'll do the bottom if you do the top." He nods, and sit's the sleeping boy up as best as possible, and changes his shirt. Becky changes his pants, and they pull the covers up over him, and settle his stuffed rabbit next to him. Spencer steps back, and smiles, an odd feeling in his stomach and heart. He watches as Becky smoothes the boy's hair, and gives him a kiss.

"Sleep well, my son. Mommy loves you." She stands quietly, and motions for Spencer, who follows her out. Once in the hallway, she turns to him.

"Thank you." He nods, and she continues. "But, I would appreciate it if you would try to not be so…involved." He looks at her, surprised.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, you're going to leave us-me-again, and there's going to be tears and yelling, and he'll hate me. And you won't be here to see it. No, instead, you'll be out to dinner with the girl in your building." She sighs and turns away from him, and he turns to follow her, confused.

"Oh, Becky. I'm sorry. But I thought we'd discussed this." She turns back to him, but continues down the hallway towards the living room.

"Me, too. But apparently, I'm not as OK with it as I thought. Are you heading back to the Inn for the night?" He looks at her, gaping.

"I was planning on staying with you, but I can go back if you'd rather." She nods, and motions to the front door.

"I'll walk you, if you like." He shakes his head, and lets himself out, pausing on the front step as he hears her begin to sob. He turns back, and reaches for the door handle, and strides into the living room. She has sat herself on the edge of the armchair, and he crosses to her, enveloping her.

"Becky. Please don't cry. We'll make it work out. Somehow, we'll make it work." She buries her head in his chest, and cries a little while longer, and he just holds her. His phone rings a few minutes later, and she separates from him.

"Thank you for coming back. I'm sorry you heard me." He shakes his head, but checks the screen on his phone, and notes that it is JJ, returning his call.

"It's OK. I really do want to talk, but would it be all right with you if I took this call?" She nods.

"Yes, of course. I'll be in the kitchen." He nods, and dials JJ as Becky heads for the kitchen to use the phone. She dials the Inn and speaks to Julie.

"Can you please come shoot me?" Julie laughs.

"No. Why?"

"I was an idiot just now, AND I cried." Julie sighs.

"You sent him away, didn't you?"

"I tried. He came back in, though." Julie is silent for a moment, but when she speaks, Becky can hear the smile in her voice.

"Then he's a keeper, I think. What the hell are you talking to me for? Go to him." Becky laughs.

"He's on the phone with one of his people, I think." Julie sighs.

"Ok, well, then as soon as he's done, then." Becky sighs, and nods, and then realizes that her friend can't see her.

"You're right, Jules. Thanks."

"Always. Talk to you later?"

"Yeah. Good night."

"Good night, Becks. Be safe, OK?" Becky giggles as her friend hangs up, and she replaces the phone on its receiver and flips on the computer. She can hear Spencer whispering, but can't make out what he's saying. As she taps away at E-mail, Spencer recounts his past few days to his friend.

"JJ, it was just so weird. Here she was, a girl I once knew, and at first I was slightly annoyed, because it made me react so fast, and I know the others knew. But then I met the boy-I have a son. It's all so much to take in at once." He pauses as JJ responds.

"I bet he's completely adorable, and I can't wait to meet him. You're bringing them here, right?"

"Not exactly. Becky is hesitant, although she is sending Spence at Christmas."

"You can't let her slip away from you again. You two have something; I can tell by the tone of your voice that you're excited. And I talked to Em and Penny, and to Derek for a minute, and they all say you ARE different now. Happier."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Garcia checked her out. I am sorry to hear about her past, did you know her well?"

"Yes. What should I do? I mean, I want it to be a meaningful gesture, just something that says "I have loved you for forever, and I am sorry, and I want to make it right?" JJ laughs.

"Well, girls like big gestures." He considers.

"Like what?"

"Well, you said she's not in the field anymore, right? So she'll probably be a little more flexible with her time. Talk to Hotch, and see if you two can't steal away in the afternoon. Take her to the City, and just be with her."

"Hotch wouldn't allow that. We're close to cracking this case."

"You misjudge him. Underneath that boss-man exterior is a soft-hearted man. You would be wise to talk to him about the kid, anyway. Let me see. You're with her now?"

"Yes."

"Hang up with me, and find her. Kiss her. Tell her what you told me, that you're sorry, and want to make it work. I promise she will understand." He sighed as she continued. "I'm hanging up now, and I will be sure to give your love to Henry."

"Thanks. Bye." The line fell silent, and he snapped his phone shut, and stood in silence for a moment as he tried to summon the courage to go Becky. He heard her sighs from the kitchen, and the tapping of the keys, and followed the sound. He spotted her at the computer, her back turned to him, her head hunched over the keys, and her hands poised over the keyboard, as if lost in thought. He inched forward, and startled her as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head. She gasped, and pushed him away to stand up and turn her body into his.

"Who was on the phone?"

"My friend JJ." Becky smiled.

It was silent again for a moment, before Becky reached up and touched his face.

"Why did you come back in?"

"I love you. I think I lied to Spencer earlier. You know, when we were talking in his room?" Becky understood instantly.

"Me, too. And you would be stupid to leave me behind again. So what do we do?" Spencer shrugged.

"I'll stay behind. There's a field office in Las Vegas." She bit her lip, and cried up again.

"You would do that?" He nodded.

"Yes." He smiled down at her, and she reached up to kiss him. She whispered to him.

"Thank you."

He grinned again, and picked her up, glad that she was light. He carried her into the living room, and settled her on the couch next to him. They kissed again, and she smiled as they break it off.

"You wouldn't be happy, would you?" He looked at her, slightly confused.

"Huh?"

"If you stayed here. There's no behavior specialists at our field office. I know that because we work with them sometimes." He sighed, but shrugged.

"I could be a one-man behaviorist."

"No. I have seen how you interact with the others. You wouldn't be comfortable leaving. I know it." He kissed her head.

"So, that leaves us back at square one."

"Not necessarily. I think I could be convinced to go with you." He raised an eyebrow.

"Really? I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. You've given up a lot, because of me, already." She inhaled and stopped. On her exhale, she looked him square in the eyes.

"I want to. I can be a policewoman anywhere. Your work is far more specialized than mine. It would be hard, but I could deal with it. So could Spence, I know." He fell silent as a slow grin spread across his face.

"I will talk to Hotch, see if you two can fly back with us."

"No, I should drive out. Besides, I have to give notice and stuff." He nodded again.

"That's true." He kissed her again, a little passionately this time, and she responded by moving herself inwards toward him. They kissed again, and he lifted her up again, this time carrying her to the bedroom, where they made love. As they relaxed and began to fall asleep, he whispered to her.

"Goodnight, sweetheart, sleep well." She mumbled something as he heard her breathing become deep and regular. He smiled to himself, kissed her head, and tried to sleep, as well. He turned over a few times, and finally settled himself when Becky rested her head on his chest. He smelled her hair, and the sweet scent of her shampoo calmed him, and he fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of Christmas, with Becky at his side, round with their child, and Spence putting wrapped gifts under a pretty tree. They were having a get together, and the entire BAU is there, too, and he is surprised to find himself calm and contented.

He startled awake when an alarm began. For a moment, he is confused about where he is, and then he noticed the soft blond hair spread out over his chest, and the soft groan that emitted from the female body cuddled tightly next to his, and he remembered that he was at Becky's, and had spent the night again. He smiled as Becky sits up, still naked, and pulled the blankets around her.

"Sorry, I forgot you were here. You can sleep more if you want, but the morning starts for me, unfortunately, because your son has a knack for six AM accidents trying to make breakfast." Spencer smiled, and sat up as well.

"It's OK. I can help you, if you'd like."

"Sure." She stood, and pulled a bathrobe over her shoulders as Spencer took in her form. He smiles to himself, but spoke to her.

"Do you have a clean pair of sweats I could borrow?" She looked at him blankly.

"If you fit into my pants, I will kill myself." He chuckled, but pulls on his boxers from the day before as Becky tossed a sweatshirt at him.

"This is left over from an old boyfriend. He was bigger than you." Spencer shrugged, pulled it over his head, and followed her down the hall and into the living room, where they heard Max watching TV.

"Good morning, honey." He looked up from the screen, and smiled at his parents.

"Good morning, Mom. Hi, Spencer. You're here early." Spencer nodded.

"I stayed the night again. I hope that's OK with you." The boy nodded, but fell silent and stared hard at the two adults. Becky tossed her hair at him, and spoke.

"What is the matter with you?"

"You two lied. You said that people only sleep in the same bed when they're in love. But then you said you weren't in love. But here you are." Becky set her jaw, but nodded once.

"You are skating on thin ice, sir, with that tone. But yes, I suppose you're right. We did say that. I have an idea. Why don't we get cleaned up, and then we'll go get breakfast someplace, and we'll talk. How does that sound?" Max considered.

"Fine. Is he coming?" He indicated Spencer with his forefinger, and Becky nodded, then looked to Spencer. Max sighs, but nods in defeat. "Ok, Mom. I will go get dressed." Becky nodded as he scampered off, and then turned to Spencer.

"You're on his short list. What did you do?" Spencer bit his lip and sighs.

"Yesterday, when you were out shopping, and I was here with him, he told me that he can tell that you and are-well, sleeping together, I guess-he said "involved", but that he wished I wouldn't get too close, because like with Ron Baker, you fall for a man and then he leaves, and that, in turn, hurts Max. The kid loves you. He hates to see you upset and hurting." She sighed, and looked at him, sadly.

"Oh, man. I've messed up." He took her hand and squeezed it.

"He'll be OK. We'll talk to him. Can I use your shower?" She nodded, and followed him back down the hallway. She stopped at the closet in the hallway, and reached in and handed him a few towels.

"You can use my bathroom. The door next to the closet." He nodded, and continued down the hallway as Becky knocked softly at Max's door. He opened it, and let her in. She settled herself on the foot of his bed, and watched for a moment as he fiddles with his dinosaurs, but then looked up at her.

"Sweetie, I talked to Spencer last night. I think it might be a good idea if we go out to DC with him." Max looked at her and his eyes shone. He smiled lightly.

"Really?"

"Yes. We're going to talk about it some more. So get your school stuff, and I'll get dressed and make your lunch, OK?" He nodded.

"Ok, Mom." She nodded once, and stood up.

"I will see you in a minute. Spencer is taking a shower, and then we'll head out, OK?"

He nodded, and she strode for her bedroom, where she entered quietly and sighed in a little bit of relief when she heard the shower still running. She had made love to Spencer, sure, but she hadn't been ready to address the awkward morning after. She went to her dresser, and quickly changed into clean underclothes, and slipped into a camisole for more coverage. Then she went to the closet, and pulled out her uniform. She stopped as she heard the shower turn off, and the bathroom door open. His voice made her smile and she turned around.

"Hey, Becky. Sorry, I forgot to grab my clothes." She nodded, silently watching his body as he moved around her bedroom. She turned back to her clothes and slid her skirt over her hips as she felt his eyes on her. She blushed lightly, and he chuckled, but returned to the bathroom as she finished dressing. As she pulled her hair back, Spencer came out of the bathroom, and embraced her.

"You look good. Your uniform is kind of sexy, you know?" She raised her eyebrows as she looks up at him.

"Really? Thanks." He grinned, and kissed her head, but speaks to her.

"Have you got a hair brush I can borrow?"

She nodded, and pulled out of his embrace, walked to her vanity table and handed him her hairbrush. He took it, and stood in view of her vanity mirror. She shook her head, and began to apply a little makeup, and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth. A few minutes later, she grabbed Spencer's hand, and they headed down the hallway, following the sound of Max's soft voice as he sang along to his cartoon. He smiled up at his parents, and Becky breathed a sigh of relief, she noticed that he'd seemed to have calmed down. He had his backpack next to him, and Becky saw that he'd packed his own lunch. She didn't dare ask what was in it, but was fairly certain that it was unhealthy, but would be eaten.

"Thank you for making your own lunch. That saves Mommy-Mom-a bunch of time. Are you boys ready?" They nodded, and she her located her purse in the kitchen, and they climbed into the car. Max spoke, excitedly.

"Mom, can we go get pancakes at the Café?" She nodded.

"Sure. Sweetheart, Mom needs to tell you something. I think that Spencer and I have decided that we want to try to make something between the two of us work, so we will be moving out to Washington soon." She heard him make an excited sound, and she continued. "I am aiming for three weeks, so we will be out there in time for the holidays. Please start to say your goodbyes, OK?" He went quiet, and Becky sighed, but pulled the car into a parking lot attached to a smallish café and parks. She smiled wickedly at Spencer.

"Do you want to do a sweep of the place before we head in?" He shook his head, and rolled his eyes.

"I doubt there's an armed killer lying in wait for you, on the off chance you'd stop in for pancakes." She laughed, and as they entered the restaurant, Spencer was on high alert. No one looks out of place, but the elderly waitress did a double-take when she came by to take them to their table.

"Good morning, Detective. Max." Becky smiled tightly at the woman, whose name tag read "June." She looked pointedly at Spencer, and Becky made the introduction.

"This is Spencer Reid. He'll be joining us for breakfast." Max smiled and the woman considered for a moment, but then gathered three menus and lead them to a table in the back.

"Your usual table. Do you want coffee?"

"Please. Spencer?" He smiled as he sat down.

"Please." June nodded and let them be. Spencer noticed that everyone had stared as they'd walked through the dining room, probably noticing the stark resemblance between the two males. He scanned the menu, settled on a simple meal, and then tuned in as the waitress returned with the coffee for him and Becky, and a glass of juice for Max. As soon as the waitress was out of earshot, Becky spoke up.

"Man, you stick out like a sore thumb in this place." He grimaced.

"I noticed that."

"Small town. Oh, well. So, I think we need to talk about how this is going to work. Are we going to move in with you, or should we look for something on our own? Do we want to enroll Max in a school right away, or wait until after Christmas? There's so much to decide." Spencer shrugged.

"Why don't you just stay with me?"

"Didn't you tell me it was a one-bedroom?"

"So? I live on the Virginia side of DC, and in Virginia, two adults and one child are allowed to live in a one-bedroom." Max interrupted.

"Wait. What about Mr. Jinglepaws?" Spencer considered.

"I'll call my landlord. It's probably just an extra deposit. But you should bring him. If anything, I'm sure I could convince Garcia to watch him until we iron it out." Max nodded.

"Cool. Mom, can I have the French toast and some hot chocolate?"

"Sure. Spencer, maybe you and I should talk about this later, but I have a substantial savings, and I'll probably get some kind of exit package. Oh, and I emailed the attorney last night. He's going to fix the birth certificate, and I won't be suing you for child support, obviously." He grinned lightly as the waitress reappeared, and they placed their breakfast orders. He responded.

"Look, Becky, I don't know yet. I think that it's one of those wait-and-see things. Just come. We'll figure it all out." She nodded.

"Ok. I think I'm OK with that." Just then, their food arrived, and they ate in easy silence. After a moment, Max broke the silence.

"Mom, do you think I could get a present for Mrs. Gold? Since we're going away, and she takes care of me, and reads to me and stuff, even though she gets bored with it." Becky smiled.

"Of course, sweetheart. You will need to spend this afternoon with Mrs. Gold because Mom and Spencer have to work." He nodded.

"I know. Can I invite Angela over tonight?"

"I'll call Mrs. Lawton, but I'm OK with it if her mom is."

"Cool." Becky shook her head, and Spencer grinned, again. They ate, and laughed, and talked as Spencer and Becky tried to keep the thoughts of the day that lay ahead far from their cozy table at the Café on Main.

End of Chapter 3. Only 1 more, I promise. J


	6. Chapter 6

_Spencer's Secret, part 4_

_Summary: The final chapter. The press conference changes things for everyone, and Spencer finally gets the girl. _

_Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is property of CBS/Paramount. Any relation to any true story is coincidental. _

_0830 Hours_

_Pahrump, PD_

_After they dropped Max off at school, Becky and Spencer arrived at the police department well-fed, happy, and in Spencer's case, with a jolt from the coffee. Becky had laughed when she saw how much sugar he took in his coffee, and the milk, but he realized too late that he should have just had some hot tea instead. Then they had swung by the Inn so Spencer could change, and he'd endured ten minutes of Derek's lighthearted joking while Becky borrowed some panty hose from Julie Garofani. _

_Now, Becky was at her desk, poring over the script that Garcia had given her a few days before while the agents were in the bullpen, discussing their day's maneuvers._

"_I don't think an undercover op will work anymore, since we've narrowed down the suspects to Emily James. Emily, I need you and Derek to go out to the Air Force base to interview the brother. I have called over to the Base; they will be expecting you, and his CO has Dale James waiting. Go now." They nodded, and headed out. Hotch continued. _

"_Reid, there has been another victim. The crime scene was behind a local restaurant. I need you to go by and assess it. You will go with Detective Garofani. Dave, I need you to keep tabs on Emily James and Ron Baker. I am here with Detective Peterson and Garcia for the morning. We are doing a press conference in one hour. Go now, please, and contact Garcia first with whatever you find." The agents and detective went their separate ways, and Hotchner knocked softly at Detective Peterson's office door. She looked up, startled, but motioned him in. _

"_Good morning, sir. Can I help you?" He nodded, and she indicated a visitor's chair for him. He sat, and spoke to her. _

"_Detective Peterson, Garcia tells me that the press people have already begun to arrive. Are you going to be ready in an hour's time?" She bit her lip, and shrugged. _

"_I guess. I am no public speaker, though, I must warn you." He nodded. _

"_No one expects you to be. Just stay on point with what Garcia has given you. If they ask questions that are not on the script, either say No Comment, or answer them sincerely. We are looking for anyone with any more information, anyone who might have seen or overheard something, even if it's minor." She nodded. _

"_Ok. I think I can handle that." He smiled lightly, and replied. _

"_Great. It's easier than it looks. Do you have anything else? I need to review some things with Garcia and the Captain." Becky peered up at him. _

"_Actually, can I ask you a semi-personal question?" He considered, but nodded_

_. "Am I crazy? I mean, this whole thing with Spence-Dr. Reid, I mean." Hotch smiled lightly, but shook his head. _

"_Not at all. I'd have preferred that it didn't happen in the middle of a case, but I suppose you can't control those things, can you? No, I don't think you're crazy at all. In fact, I think it's good for Spencer. I worry about him; he's essentially alone in this world." _

"_I know. Agent Morgan said you have a son, and I wanted to tell you that it seems that my son and I will be relocating to DC soon. If you ever need help, let me know." Hotch considered. _

"_Thank you, that's very kind. My sister helps me for now. My wife died last year, and Jack is having a little bit of a rough time. Perhaps a new face will help." _

"_I'm sorry about your wife. It must suck." Hotch chuckled lightly. _

"_Yes, but I have never heard it put like that." _

"_I'm sorry. I don't mean to be flippant. But I understand loss, and I've always hated it when people do that fakey-nice thing, you know that "oh, how are you, my dear? Feeling OK?" I really just want to smack them, and reply, "well, when someone you love dies, let me know." She shrugged, and smiled a little. _

"_Agreed. Anyway, I really need to see your boss. Please excuse me." _

"_Of course." As Hotch stood to leave, Captain O'Farrell knocked on her door. He stuck his head in and spoke to her. _

"_Rebecca, please start a file on this latest vic, OK? I want a summary by lunch time. I know you have the press thing soon, but since you're not in the field, I don't expect you to have further problems or delays." Becky nodded, and smiled. _

"_I understand, sir. I'll have a typed summary on your desk before lunch." He nodded, satisfied, and followed the FBI supervisor out of the woman's office, as she rolled her eyes, but turned to her computer, crime scene report in hand. She picked up her phone, and dialed her partner. _

"_Steve? Any new info? I have Officer Thompson's report, but I wanted to make sure that there's nothing new yet to add." He replied. _

"_No, Becky. Nothing new. Thompson was thorough." _

"_She always is. Well, keep me posted. Captain has me doing busy work until this blasted press conference." _

"_Keep your head up, woman. It won't be so bad." _

"_Says he who is in the field." Steve chuckled, but replied. _

"_Yes. Look, I have to go. I'll be in touch if we find anything." _

"_Thanks. Oh, and thanks for being cool. You could be harassing me so badly right now, and I am thankful that you're not." _

"_Well, Julie told me that if she so much as THOUHGT that I was anything less than super-supportive right now, she'd kill me. And the menopause thing makes me think that she might be serious. No telling what I might say to your man, though. I have known you for eight years, remember. I have a lot of dirt." _

"_Oh, you'd better not say a word. Julie will be the least of your problems, my friend. Talk to you later?" _

"_Yes. Bye."_

"_Bye." _

_She hung up and turned back to her computer and typed and edited Officer Thompson's report. She checked the duty schedule and noticed that the beat cop would not be on duty again until the following evening. Becky sighed, needing the woman's signature on the typed report, but Becky knew that the girl has a kid of her own, a toddler, and would likely be unwilling to swing by the station to sign Becky's copy. Becky stood, grabbed her keys, and headed for the Captain's office, where she found Agent Hotchner and her boss sitting together. She knocked once, and when given the OK, let herself in. _

"_Sir, I need to head over to Sergeant Thompson's home, just for her signature on the typed report." The captain considered. _

"_Why don't you just attach Officer Thompson's original report with her signature to your copy?" Becky looked at him, eyebrows raised. _

"_Because once we turn this over to the DA's office for prosecution, he'll have my badge if it's not to protocol." _

"_I need you here this morning. It's fine, just wait for after lunch." Becky sighed, but nodded. _

"_Yes, sir. Also, did you get my email? I need some time to talk to you." _

"_I did receive it, and actually, I was just speaking to Agent Hotchner about your request. We just wanted to make sure that this was your idea, and that you realize that it seems very sudden. I mean, dear girl, just two weeks ago, you had two dozen roses on your desk and were moon-eyed over the fireman. It just seems so brash. You're usually so thoughtful and deliberate. It's just surprising is all." Becky set her jaw. _

"_I know full well what I am doing, sir." The captain nodded, once. _

"_I believe that. But I won't give you three weeks." Becky started to protest as the Captain smiled. "Instead, I will tell the commissioner to give you your two weeks pay, but I expect you to be on your way to DC by then. And I want a wedding invitation when the time comes." Becky smiled tightly. _

"_Of course. Thank you." _

"_You're welcome. I will need you to stay out of the field for the rest of the week. I am promoting Sergeant Thompson to fill your vacancy, and she'll need to be trained." Becky nodded. _

"_Excellent choice, if I may say so. I will be happy to train her." _

"_Great. I am going to let her know this afternoon, and your training sessions will begin tomorrow morning." _

"_Fantastic. Is there going to be a dress code tomorrow?" _

"_Since you will be training, you can wear what you wish. I know that I don't need to spell out for you what is acceptable and what is not." _

"_Thank you, sir. I am going to find Ms. Garcia and head downstairs." _

"_Very good. Agent Hotchner and I will follow shortly."_

_Becky nodded again, and excused herself to the two men. She finds Garcia waiting for her, and smiled at the heavyset woman. _

"_I didn't say Hello earlier." Penelope smiled. _

"_It's Ok. You and Spencer looked so cozy this morning, none of us wanted to interrupt." _

_Becky grinned. _

"_I guess we were. Are you ready? I warned your boss that I am no public speaker, so I hope I don't embarrass you people." Penelope shook her head._

"_Don't worry. You'll be fine. I'm going to set you up with a mike, just in case, so you and Hotch can hear and talk to each other." Becky nodded, and led the way to her office, where Garcia outfitted the woman with the earpiece and hid the receiver in her uniform's jacket pocket. Becky grabbed her uniform hat, and the two women headed downstairs and into the courtyard, where the Commissioner and some other city officials were already gathered. A uniformed police officer called Schumann approached and spoke to Becky. _

"_Detective Peterson? I have done a walk-through, and it is secure. Officer Sherman is checking ID's and press passes at the door." Becky smiled warmly at the young officer, a recent graduate of the academy, attempting to do his very best on this assignment. Becky appreciated a cop who works hard, and so she nodded, and spoke kindly to him. _

"_Great job, Schumann. This is Penelope Garcia, she's with the FBI. Have any of their agents returned yet?" The young man shook his head, but greeted Garcia, and shook her hand. He replied. _

"_No. Sorry, ma'am. But I can tell Sherman to be on the lookout." Becky shook her head. _

"_It's all right. I was just checking. Have you had your morning break yet?" _

"_No, but it's Ok. I can get something later." _

"_No, you should go now. Take five, and relax. In a few minutes, it's going to be high-alert, and we will need all hands on deck." The young man thought it over for a moment, and then responded. _

"_Ok. But do call me if you need anything at all." Becky assured him that she will, and he left as Hotch approached the women, Spencer and Steve behind him. It is Steve that spoke. _

"_Where is Schumann going?" _

"_I told him to grab some coffee before this show gets on the road. He has secured the place." _

"_Becky, I don't think it's a good idea that anyone be out of the loop here. Get him back." _

"_Steve, he is fine getting coffee. We have five minutes. Besides, the FBI is here. What do you think can possibly happen in the courtyard of the police department that currently has more cops at it than the entire Vegas pd?" _

"_You don't know who they're letting in." _

"_Oh, geez. Please. You honestly think that there's a reporter who is looking to harass the departments most celebrated cop? I think not. And if there is, I will gladly let you show them out." Steve rolled his eyes as Hotch interjected. _

"_It doesn't matter. I have Rossi securing the place, also. Now, I need to see if you can hear me through the mike, just to be safe." Becky nodded, and the two stepped off to the side. When Hotch was satisfied that they can communicate if necessary, he told her to start the conference. She stepped forward, and spoke into the microphone set up on a makeshift stage borrowed from the high school. She beamed out at the crowd of reporters and public officials and began. From her vantage point, she saw Rossi ambling through the crowd, and felt just a little more at ease. _

"_Thank you all for being here. For those of you who don't know, I am Lt. Detective Rebecca Peterson, and I am here today to tell you all about the update regarding the recent rash of murders." _

_She paused as Hotch reminded her to say something about how the citizens are very safe, and she continued. _

"_First, I need to tell you that the murders are specific, and the public at large is safe. We have several personnel on this case, both from PD and the FBI. We have called you all here today to make a plea for anyone with any information to please step forward. If you have any details, or saw anything suspicious, even if it seems inconsequential, PLEASE call the department or the tip line. You can remain anonymous, and our dispatchers are bilingual." _

_Becky glanced down at the script in front of her, and then to Spencer, who smiled and nodded encouragingly. She took a breath, and opened her mouth to continue, but a smiling face in the crowd caused her to pause. She raised a hand. _

"_Please, excuse me for one moment." _

_She turned to Hotchner and Spencer, her eyes big, and spoke in a hurried whisper. _

"_Why is Ron Baker here? I thought this was invite-only." Spencer looked at Steve, and spoke quickly to Hotch. _

"_When he didn't show up for his shift today, we assumed that he'd skipped town. His car was gone, and his residence was empty. How did we miss this?" Hotch raised his eyebrows, annoyed, but spoke into his microphone, this time to Rossi. _

"_Please check out Ron Baker." Becky heard Rossi's affirmative reply, and turned back to the microphone, and smiled again. _

"_Sorry about that. As I was saying…" A commotion from the center of the room caused everyone to turn around, and in a few short moments, Becky saw Ron Baker pull a firearm and aim it at the stage. Not at her, but instead the FBI agents, and Spencer in particular. The agents flew into action, with Morgan and Prentiss running on to the scene, having returned just moments before, and Becky, in autopilot, went for the draw as Steve's voice cut through her actions. _

"_Becky, keep your cool." She inhaled, and yelled loudly. _

"_Everyone remain calm. Please sit down quietly. Mr. Baker, drop your weapon, or we will be forced to fire." _

_As Rossi and Morgan inched forward, she saw the suspect yelling, but due to the din in the room, she couldn't hear what he said. She repeated herself into the microphone, and felt a strong, steady hand on her shoulder, and a familiar voice spoke to her. _

"_Becky, let's get you inside." _

_It was Spencer, and as she turned slightly to protest, she heard a shot ring out, and her instincts kicked in, pushing Spencer to the side, as she jumped out of the way. The bullet whizzed past her, but another was close behind it, and an instant later, she felt a sharp, burning pain in her upper right shoulder, and realized she'd been hit. She looked around, in mild shock, and felt relief when she noticed that Spencer was unharmed. She sat down, grimaced in pain, and noticed that the FBI people had tackled Ron Baker, and now had him handcuffed. Only then did she allow herself to breath and feel the pain in her shoulder. She looked up as Spencer knelt next to her, and Steve arrived at her side. She smiled weakly at her partner, and spoke. _

"_Did that son of a bitch actually try to shoot us? I know how to pick 'em, huh?" Steve shook his head lightly, but nodded. _

"_That was a doozy, for sure. A bus is on the way." _

"_You know what? I think I'm OK." Steve rolled his eyes. _

"_You were shot in the shoulder. A little higher, and he'd have gotten your carotid artery." _

_Just then, the captain approached with Prentiss at his side. _

"_The EMTs are here. You will go with them, Rebecca." She nodded, weakly, and Steve spoke to Spencer. _

"_Becky likes to crack jokes when she's in pain." He smiled a closed-mouth smile, and nodded. Just then, two male EMTs began to shoo people to the side, and Steve stepped out of the way to help Hotch and Rossi clear the courtyard and secure the scene. Becky smiled up at Prentiss, and speaks to her. _

"_You can have the tall one. His name is Mark." Prentiss laughed as the EMTs worked, and the whole time, Becky rattled off a list to Spencer. _

"_I need someone to get Max from school; Mrs. Gold wasn't answering her phone this morning, so I am a little worried. Also, someone will need to drive my car home; I don't want it sitting around the parking lot all night. The high school kids get rowdy when it gets close to Christmas. Finally, can you ask Julie to bring me a change of clothes and some personal items?" He chuckled, and answered her. _

"_Sweetheart, I'll take care of it. Please just listen to the EMTs"._

_She frowned as one of the EMTs jabbed an IV into her arm, and then they both helped her onto a stretcher as she complained that she can walk. Spencer rolled his eyes, and it is agreed that Prentiss should ride along, since Becky's shirt will need to be cut. Besides, Spencer felt that it is his duty to fill in for Max's care, as Spencer and Steve had learned that morning that the latest victim was Max's babysitter, Mrs. Gold. Although she hadn't fit the pattern, Spencer felt that the murder was personal, and now with Ron Baker in custody, he was sure they would have their answer soon. _

_1500 Hours_

_Nye County Hospital_

_In her room at the hospital, Becky Peterson sat miserably and watched the scene of the shooting over and over on the closed-circuit television. She had taken several phone calls, most of them from Spencer, who had been given the afternoon off. He was confused as to how to care for Max after school, and Becky had begun to have doubts about his fitness for parenting. She couldn't worry too much, though, because the medicine they had given her for pain from the surgery to sew back her shoulder began to kick in. _

_A while later, Becky couldn't be sure how long exactly, but it appeared to be about an hour. A familiar voice penetrated her drug-induced haze, and she smiled as she opened one eye. She put the bed into an upright position and motioned for Max to climb in with her. He did, and then he patted her face in concern. She saw Spencer sitting nearby, and waved in his direction. _

"_Are you OK, Mom?" Becky smiled and nodded. _

"_Yes, the bullet didn't go through; the doctor could get it out of my shoulder. In six weeks time, I'll be back to normal." Max nodded, seriously, and pushed his glasses up his nose. He spoke again. _

"_Spencer said they arrested Mr. Baker. The FBI people are taking him to jail." Becky raised an eyebrow at Spencer, who had moved his chair closer to her bed, and now held her hand. Spencer replied. _

"_Yeah, he confessed, and then rolled over on Emily James. They had a plan to elope and it was supposed to be their fairy tale. They were killing the other women, because in a sick, twisted way, he felt that it would be less heartbreaking." Becky nodded, and shook her head. _

"_Oh, My. Thank you for your help this afternoon, by the way. Who was the last victim?" Spencer shrugged, and stared at the floor. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and spoke. _

"_Spence? Can you go downstairs with Garcia and maybe get a snack? You said earlier you were hungry." Max looked to Becky, who realized that what Spencer was about to say would be serious, so she nodded at the boy. _

"_Sneak Mommy in some animal crackers." Max sighed deeply as he climbed off the bed and headed out into the hallway. When they heard Garcia's voice speaking to the child, Spencer turned back to Becky. _

"_The victim this morning was Hannah Gold. Baker said he'd killed her because she had spoken to us and was about to come to you with her suspicions." He noticed that she'd gone white, and leaned over and kissed her forehead as he continued. "I'm so sorry, but I didn't know how to tell Spence." Becky nodded, and looked like she would cry, but she spoke in a low sob. _

"_No, thanks. I'd rather do it myself, when the time is right. So, where does this sneaky little development leave us?" Spencer grinned. _

"_I have a plan. Actually, Max and I have a plan." _

"_Oh, really? Please, enlighten me." Spencer smiled wickedly, and stood up. He sat at the foot of the bed, and began to tell her about their plan. _

"_Well, firstly, we spoke to your captain and to Hotch this afternoon, and you will be returning to DC tomorrow with us. But in the meantime, Garcia is going to hang out with you so us men can implement stage one of our three stage plan. Stage one is settling your affairs. I called your attorney; he's a very nice man, and he is going to take care of all the legal aspects. Captain O'Farrell is granting you an emergency family leave, and is putting a rush on your transfer; apparently, a local PD-Falls Church, which is on the Virginia side of DC-has an opening for a cold case detective, and they're very interested in you. Finally, your girlfriend Julie is going to handle the renting of your house. Your car will be driven to DC by their oldest daughter, and then we will fly her back. Oh, and I put down the pet deposit at home so that Spence could bring Mr. Jinglepaws. Hotch isn't exactly jumping for joy about bringing a cat along on the plane, but he's really being super." He stopped when he saw the look on Becky's face. "What?" _

"_This is a very masterful plan, and I am amazed that you pulled this all together in seven hours' time, but I am still a little unsure." Spencer raised an eyebrow. _

"_What do you mean?" _

"_Can we make it work? We've only spent two days together, and most of it was work and sex. It's different on the day-to-day. Will you still want me around when I am grumpy and PMSing and yelling at the cat because he shed on my duvet? Will you still think I am sexy on a Saturday night, when I am in my sweats and my hair is up and I took off my makeup and I forgot to shave for two days? What about Max? How is he going to adjust?" _

_She sighed as Max came back into the room, and looked from her to Spencer. The little boy spoke. _

"_Mom, are you and Spencer arguing again?" Becky sighed, and nodded. _

"_Yes. I heard about your plan, and while it's brilliant, Part 1, anyway, I am not sure if it's going to work." Max's face fell, but he climbed back onto the bed again, and handed his mother a box of animal crackers. He speaks to her. _

"_Mom, last week when I saw my psychologist, he told me something, and I am going to tell you that now." Becky raised an eyebrow at him, and set her jaw to let him know that she was annoyed by his behavior. He barreled on, unconcerned with his mother's objections. _

"_Dr. Wong told me that sometimes in life, things happen for a reason. And as much as you want to, you can't always control them. But you can control how you react to them. Or something like that. Anyway, what I am saying is this. Mom, let Spencer and I take care of you for once. You're a good mom, but you never let anyone help, and sometimes I think it would be nice to have a different person around. And it should be Spencer, since he's my father." Becky sighed, defeated, and nodded. _

"_Ok, fine. I can tell when I am about to lose the battle. When do we leave?" Max smiled, and Spencer chuckled. He spoke to Max. _

"_Good job, kid." Max smiled at him, and then turned back to Becky. _

"_I was really good for Ms. Garcia. She said I could call her Penelope, too. Can I?" Becky nodded. _

"_Of course. Are you sure you're not going to be too sad to say goodbye to everyone?" He shook his head. _

"_No. Spencer and Agent Hotchner said I could bring Mr. Jinglepaws on the airplane tomorrow." Becky smiled. _

"_Good, I am glad you won't have to leave him behind." He settled himself closer to her, and she pulled him close to her in an embrace. Spencer smiled, and touched her arm. She smiled back. The three fell silent for a little while, until Becky felt her eyes start to droop again. She murmurs to the boys. _

"_Spencer? Max? I'm getting really sleepy again. Will you stay until I fall asleep?" They nodded at her, and Spencer edges closer to the two as Max cuddles into her before she falls into a deep sleep. _

_2100 Hours_

_Nye County Hospital_

_Becky startled awake to find Spencer curled next to her, sleeping. She smiled to herself and kissed his face, unintentionally waking him up. As his eyes fluttered open, he smiled. _

"_You're up." She nodded, slightly confused as to what time it was and where she was and why he was there. _

"_What time is it? Where's Max? Why are you here?" He sat up a little, and pulled her close to him. _

"_It's 11 pm, and you've been asleep since about three this afternoon. After you fell asleep, Max and I went back to Pahrump and I finalized things with the case and then we tied up some loose ends. Max is fine; he took a shining to both Garcia and Prentiss, and they're with him at the Inn. I came about an hour ago; I was up pacing and I think I was driving Morgan crazy, because he suggested I come here. I did, and I must've fallen asleep. I'm sorry." Becky, who had become a little more cognizant, shook her head, and snuggled deeper into Spencer. _

"_No, it's OK. Thank you. For everything. I owe you and Hotch and everyone so much." He shook his head. _

"_No, they don't think that at all. I think that they're all just surprised that you actually gave me the time of day, let alone had my kid and raised him alone. But he's charming, so I think they're OK with it." Becky laughed. _

"_Yes, he's quite like you, I have to say. I'm glad it's going to all work out. Now we just have to tell Spence about Hannah Gold. I wish there was some way we could be here for the funeral." _

"_There won't be one. Apparently, she had family in Philly, and they're going to take her body to a Jewish mausoleum there, and it's my understanding that they don't do funerals. Or at least, not like we're used to." Becky looked saddened, but unsurprised. _

"_Yes, I knew she had a niece in Philly. I guess we'll only be able to send flowers or something. Max will be heartbroken. Any ideas about schools or who will watch him while he's off?" Spencer chuckled. _

"_Yes. That was phase two of my brilliant plan. Remember my friend JJ I was telling you about? Her husband stays home with their son for now, and once Max starts school, he can watch him until one of us gets home. As for school, the public one near me is adequate, I think, but Hotch sends Jack to a private school that is supposed to be top-notch. I think we should explore that. We have time, Becky. He is smart enough that missing a few weeks won't hurt him." She nodded. _

"_I guess you're right. What's phase three?" Spencer smiled. _

"_That, my dear, is a surprise. We should rest some more; we're due to fly out at 7 am sharp, and Hotch is a stickler." He closed his eyes as Becky settled herself against the pillows. He heard her sigh, and opened his eyes again. _

"_What is it, Becks?" She smiled lightly. _

"_A happy sigh. I just can't believe it's all happening. It's like, I don't know. A fairy tale or a movie or something. Can you push the nurse call button? I think I need some more pain meds; my shoulder really hurts." He nodded, and pressed a red button on the side of the bed. He spoke to her then. _

"_It's all really happening. I don't know if it's a fairy tale; I am not much of a prince, but do know that I really want this to work, and I am willing to do what it takes. I just need you to communicate to me what you need from me." _

"_I promise to tell you what I need. I know I can be a little stubborn sometimes, but I promise that I want this to work, too." He grinned, and slid out of the bed as a nurse appeared in the room. Becky told the nurse that she was having a moderate amount of pain, and the nurse gave her some morphine. Spencer climbed back in the bed with her, and held her until she fell asleep again. _


	7. Chapter 7

Spencer's Secret, part 6-Epilogue

Editors note: I may come back to this story and expand on it a bit more later, but as of right now, I think this is a good place to end it. Thanks for the reviews, and let me know what else you want…

Present day

0600 hours

Reid household

Somewhere in VA

Spencer awoke that morning to Becky's soft breathing and blonde hair spread across his chest. He smiled as he did every morning now; Becky and Max were settling in well and immediately, Becky had began to share his bed. They were becoming more solid in their relationship as the days went on, and he and Max were bonding. He and Becky had decided to enroll Max at the local public middle school that very afternoon. Finally, Becky and the females on the team had bonded, and he was now the resident family man. She was on bed rest for a few more weeks, but would begin her new job at the police department the week after New Years. All in all, Spencer was happy.

He could hear Max already awake, and shook his head. He was still a little unused the odd hours that children kept, and he moved to climb out of bed, but woke Becky as he did. He smiles and speaks to her.

"Sweetheart, go back to sleep. I'll feed him, and then I'll get dressed, OK?" Becky mumbled a response, but sat up. A moment later, she speaks to him again.

"Thanks, but I'll get him. You need to concentrate on getting ready for work." She stood, plucked her bathrobe from the chair near the bed, and followed him out of the room and out into the living room. They were all living in Spencer's small one bedroom apartment, but planned to look for something bigger over the next few weeks. As they approached the kitchen, they could hear Max knocking over things and the sound of cereal being spilled on the floor. Becky sighs, but he grins, and speaks to Max.

"Hey, what's going on in here?" Max looks up guiltily, and Spencer notices that he still has his blue cotton pajamas on.

"I was making breakfast so you and Mom could sleep." Spencer smiles.

"Thank you, but I think it's a better idea if Mom or I does it. Why don't you go feed the cat?" The little boy scampers off as Becky chuckles and heads for the brand-new, Becky-purchased coffee pot. He grins at her.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just three weeks ago, I was the one uttering those words." He nods, and pulls her to him in an embrace. He kisses her head, and releases her as he replies.

"Well, it just came to me. I hope it's OK."

"It's fine. Coffee?" He shakes his head, and pours three bowls of cereal, adding milk for him and Max, and some soymilk for Becky. He chuckled inwardly about her odd eating habits-habits that he intended to break her of-and called for Max.

"Spence? It's time to eat, OK?" Becky shuffles behind him to the table, sipping her coffee and wrinkling her nose at the cereal. The boys dive in, and she picks up her spoon and stirs the food cautiously. Max speaks up.

"I forgot you don't like cereal, Mom." Spencer raised his eyebrows, and leaned back in his chair.

"Becky, how can you not like cereal?" She shrugs, but grins.

"It's not so much that I don't like it; it tastes fine, it's just that it doesn't keep me full until lunch." Spencer considers.

"That make sense. But why don't you just have a snack?"

"I suppose I could now. It's just before, I would hardly have time to even eat breakfast, what with getting Max ready for school, and me for work, and I would eat on the fly, and then at work, I was lucky if I could eat lunch before two o'clock, and usually it was a snack at the Inn, then we'd just have dinner. I don't know." Spencer replied.

"I understand. But it's different now. And if we could, I think it would be nice for us to have our meals as a family. When we can, you know." Becky grinned and nodded over her coffee cup, and Max nodded. "Good. Well, I am going to work until Noon, and then I will be home to pick you two up to register you for school, Max." Max nods.

"Ok. I'm ready. Will I start today?" Becky shakes her head.

"No. We'll get you registered, and then we'll get your supplies. You will start tomorrow morning." He nods, and finishes his breakfast. Spencer speaks to Becky.

"Will one-ish work this afternoon?"

"Yes. We'll be ready. Do you want me to make you a lunch?" He grins.

"No. I'll eat when I get home."

"How is today shaping up?"

"We might have to fly out to Chicago." Becky nods and smiles lightly.

"Well, that would be fine. We'll be OK here. I am feeling better every day." He nods, and stands to wash his bowl and start dressing for work. She follows behind him, and as she is rinsing her bowl, he kisses her neck and wraps his arms around her waist. She turns in to him and they kiss again. As they separate, she giggles lightly.

"I like that. I am glad you convinced me to come here." He smiles and nods.

"Me, too. I am going to take a shower, and then get ready for work." She nods and replies.

"Ok. I think I might snooze a little; these pain pills still make me tired." Spencer nods.

"Yes, they will do that. You need to rest as much as possible. Should I take Spence in with me?"

"No, he'll be OK. I hate that he is watching so much TV lately. But maybe we can walk to the corner market. We did that yesterday, and I wasn't too tired afterwards."

"That sounds OK. Please be safe."

"I am a cop. I think we'll be fine."

"You know what I mean." She laughs.

"I know. You'd better get a move on." He nods, and leads her down the hallway to the bedroom, where she climbs in, and he heads out to the bathroom. He dresses, prepares himself, and gathers his needed supplies and heads for the living room. A small, woozy voice interrupts him.

"Spencer? Are you leaving now?" He turns to face Becky and nods.

"Yes. Shhh. Go back to sleep." She nods, but motions him to the bed, where she kisses him deeply and then smiles.

"Have a good day." He chuckles as he heads out of the door.

In the living room, Max is sitting on the couch, playing with his dinosaurs as Spencer is leaving. He speaks to the boy.

"Spence? I am leaving for work now."

"Ok. Is Mom still asleep?"

"Yeah, she woke up for just a second to say goodbye, but she fell back to bed. I will call every hour on the hour until she is up, OK?" Max rolls his eyes, but nods.

"Ok. Have a good day."

"Thank you. Do you remember your mother's medication schedule?"

"Yes. We'll be fine."

"I know. Be good."

"I will. Bye, dad."

"Bye, kid."

Spencer sighs, and strides into the hallway and into the elevator. He had already had the awkward meet-in-the-elevator with the girl upstairs, who'd happened upon him and Becky canoodling one evening when Garcia was watching Max so Becky could have a break, so he didn't expect that morning's ride to hold any surprises. Sure enough, he was downstairs in record time, and as he greeted his doorman, he stepped out into the crisp winter air. He pulls his jacket tighter around him, and heads down the block towards the Metro stop. He stops a little bit down the street and glances up at his kitchen window. He smiles to himself, knowing that his new little family is safely ensconced there, warm and happy. He continues on to work, and arrives in high spirits, greeting the team in turn, and settling in to hear about the most recent case.

The others have noticed the change in their friend and colleague. They notice that he is happier overall, and in the evening, instead of passing up their offers of going out for a drink to sit at home alone, they know it because he is hurrying home to see his family. He has become calmer in his demeanor, and things that once annoyed him no longer seemed to.

One Year Later

Things have been going well in the Reid/Peterson household. Becky is back at work, thriving in her new job as lead detective in DC's cold case squad, Max is excelling at school, and Spencer is in love. He has chosen today, the anniversary of the BAU's arrival in Nevada, and the day his life changed forever, to make the next big change in his life. He has decided that the time has come to marry Becky, and he has had all kinds of help in planning the evening. Garcia and Morgan have Max watch, JJ has helped him to secure a ring and Prentiss gave him the name of a contact she had so he could gain access to the Washington Monument after dark. His plan was to take her to dinner, then suggest a walk along the National Mall, ending with the proposal on the lawn in front of the monument.

As the evening progressed, he became more and more antsy to ask Becky his burning question. Finally, finally, he paid the check at the restaurant and suggested the walk. Luckily for him, Becky was feeling in need of some fresh air, and readily agreed. When he headed for the Monument, she was momentarily confused.

"Honey, it's closed."

"Yes, for most people it's closed. But I know someone. Let's go; Washington looks awesome lit up." Becky giggled at his use of one of Max's favorite slang words, but followed him up the walk. She gasps as they enter the fenced-off lawn area, and looks up to take in the glory of the piece of history in front of her. A moment later, Spencer turns to her.

"Becky, can I ask you something?" She smiles at him, and nods before replying.

"Of course." He inhales, and nods once. He tries to appear as serious as possible, aware that she could easily say no just as much as she could say yes. He exhales and grins.

"Ok. Rebecca Jane Peterson, I need to know if you'll agree to marry me." He stopped speaking and concentrated on a discolored patch of grass nearby for a moment before meeting her eyes. She is smiling, and her eyes have misted.

"Yes. Just as long as you promise to never call me by my full name ever again." He grinned.

"Thank you. I swear to you I never will." She giggled, and he kissed her, smiling when she kissed him back. He soared with happiness, and the way she smiles at him lets him know that she is, too.

The Absolute Very End…


End file.
